


The Oak and the Cypress

by Mirtai



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, M/M, Possible (minor) squick, Romance, Secondary character deaths, Slice of Life, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 02:08:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 184,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirtai/pseuds/Mirtai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The legend of Alexander's last words evoked here comes from Mary Renault's "The Persian Boy". I have never heard her theory repeated elsewhere, and have no notion as to its authenticity, but it always made sense to me, so I'm sticking to it!</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 1 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 3545  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

 **Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

 **Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

 **Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

 **Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

"The Oak and The Cypress" was written in 2002-2003, and initially published in May 2005 in zine format. When the zine timed out, [](http://katkim.livejournal.com/profile)[**katkim**](http://katkim.livejournal.com/) was kind enough to provide web space for an on-line version, which went up early in 2006. Unfortunately, some problem developed with the service provider, and the site came down recently. A couple of fans of the story (thank you, [](http://enderwiggin24.livejournal.com/profile)[**enderwiggin24**](http://enderwiggin24.livejournal.com/) and [](http://hangebokhan.livejournal.com/profile)[**hangebokhan**](http://hangebokhan.livejournal.com/) ) have been sending out copies to interested parties in the meantime, but I've been feeling rather guilty about the amount of work they've had to do. So, although I never intended to use the actual journal part of my LJ account, I realised it was a perfectly good place to put up my story. It is complete, thirty chapters, an epilogue, and my acknowledgements/AN at the end.

*****

**CHAPTER ONE**

January, 2002

Clark normally enjoyed parties, but these New Year celebrations had become a little overwhelming. It had been years since it had been the Kents' turn to host the Smallville Farmers Association New Year's party. The farms that cooperated in the Farmers' Market every Saturday had long ago developed a tradition of holding a fireworks party to mark the New Year, the venue circulating among all the members in turn. Clark couldn't actually remember his parents hosting one before - there were fifteen farms involved in the SFA - but he had been to more than one of the parties. He understood perfectly well that when it was their turn, his parents weren't going to arouse needless speculation by refusing to host the party, regardless of their somewhat reclusive reputation.

He had been looking forward to it, in fact, but the realities turned out a little different. There were almost forty people here, had been, more or less, since just after five o'clock, and he was feeling the pressures of seven hours of socializing. His own friends had passed through, which was nice, but their families weren't part of the SFA, and they had gone on to the town's own celebrations eventually. In addition, so had most of the children of the other farmers, leaving him as one of the few teenagers present. He was feeling very self-conscious about it.

There was another factor, too, which was new. It was stupid, really, he realized that. He'd known for just about as long as he could remember that he was adopted, and nobody in Smallville had really treated him as anything other than the Kents' own flesh and blood, but this year he was painfully conscious of just how much divided him from them. He didn't quite belong here anymore. He was changing; into what, he didn't fully know. Even his parents seemed by-passed by events. There was only one person who seemed to understand instinctively how Clark felt, even without being in possession of the facts, though Clark often wondered just how much he really was fooling Lex. Sometimes he wondered just how much he was fooling anybody at all, but then Smallville and its inhabitants came across regularly as the proverbial ostrich, with its head stuck in the sand, ignoring anything that disturbed it unduly.

Thinking of Lex stirred Clark to action. Even over the phone, his friend had a calming influence, something Clark felt in need of right now. He hadn't seen much of Lex since school let out; the older boy had been away for a while, then Clark had been too caught up in the usual celebrations with other friends and family. He'd have liked to have Lex there for Christmas, but his father would never have stood for it. However, he thought he could get away with a quick call to mark the New Year. He made his way upstairs, invisibly, he hoped, and headed for the telephone extension in his parents' bedroom.

He had half considered that Lex might be away at some party in Metropolis, but he wasn't altogether surprised to be put through to him straight away.

"Clark?" Lex sounded genuinely surprised.

"Hey, Lex. Happy New Year." Clark knew he sounded ridiculously happy for just a simple phone call, but he couldn't help it, he was just glad to have Lex there, at the other end of the line.

There was an odd silence from Lex's end, though. "New Year?" he said eventually, his voice a little vague. "So it is. I hadn't really noticed. I don't know about the 'happy' part," he added in such an undertone Clark wasn't sure he had been meant to hear.

"Lex?" This didn't sound much like his friend. "Are you okay?"

There was another long pause. When he answered, Lex sounded somewhere between unusually gentle and extremely weary.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Clark. Thanks for the good wishes, and same to you."

"Lex…"

He had hung up. Clark stared at the phone in confusion. Lex never hung up on him. What was more, he really didn't like the sound of that aside he had caught. 'I don't know about the 'happy' part'? What was that supposed to mean? Clark mulled things over for a few minutes more, then got up and headed back downstairs to the kitchen.

His mother found him there a couple of minutes later, packing some cookies into a Tupperware box.

"Clark?"

"I'm going over to Lex's," he announced, a slightly defiant set to his chin. "I called him to wish him a Happy New Year, and something doesn't sound right with him."

"Clark, honey…"

He shook his head mulishly. "I'm sorry, Mom, I think I've helped play host long enough that no one's going to miss me for an hour or so now. He's my friend, and it's bad enough that he was alone at Christmas. Sometimes all he needs is someone to talk to. I can do that for him. I want to." Then he smiled a little. "Anyway, your cookies would make anyone's day. I'll be back before everyone's gone, I promise."

If it had been Jonathan, there would probably have been a huge fight, but Martha had a much better understanding of the connection between the two boys - the isolated rich kid and the alien orphan - than Jonathan, and she was more prepared to overlook the name in favor of the person. Lex was an odd one, there was no doubt about that, and she could see why Clark sought his company. Lex was something completely outside the run-of-the-mill Smallville experience, nearly an alien being himself. Clark, floundering with his new identity, was clinging to that pseudo-parallel between them with something almost approaching desperation.

"I want you back before two, okay?" she said quietly. "That's about when this'll start breaking up, and you do need to be here to say good night to the others."

He nodded eagerly, pleased she had conceded. "I won't be long, Mom."

***

When Clark arrived at the castle, he was directed to a room on the second floor he didn't know. In layout, it was pretty similar to the war-room, but the walls here were lined with books, save for the inevitable fireplace, and a unit housing a state-of-the-art home theatre adjacent to it. The only illumination in the room came from the fire crackling softly on the hearth, and in the dim and dancing light, he could see Lex sitting on the big leather couch, tucked into one corner. He was holding a snifter, but it didn't look like he had drunk all that much of the contents, and he hadn't sounded at all intoxicated to Clark earlier. Hearing Clark enter, he turned his head a little towards the sound, showing his profile.

"Clark?"

Clark had never heard him sound like that, never heard that cultivated, controlled voice sound so lifeless.

"Yeah, Lex, it's me. I - I thought you sounded… odd, over the phone. I thought…. I wanted to be sure you're okay."

"Don't you have some sort of party going at home?"

"They're not going to miss me for a bit. Lex, can I put on a light?"

After a moment, Lex waved his free hand towards the big standard lamp behind the couch. Clark came forward, put the cookie container on the desk behind the couch and switched the light on, aware of Lex's gaze on him. When he finally saw Lex's face properly, he had to stop himself from reaching out to touch him in concern. If the young tycoon's voice sounded listless, it was merely a reflection of his expression, bleak and drained, his complexion grayish, and his eyes lackluster and almost colorless. The look on Lex's face was so chilling as to be frightening. Impulsively, Clark moved in front of Lex and knelt so he could look up into Lex's face. He reached out, removed the brandy glass from Lex's loose grasp, and then covered the pale hand resting on the arm of the chair with his own.

"Lex, what's the matter?" he asked gently. "What's wrong?"

The transparent gaze seemed to take an eternity to focus on him. "Clark…."

Clark pressed his hand gently. "I'm here, Lex, talk to me."

"Why are you my friend?"

"Because I like you," he replied with a tiny, encouraging smile. It wasn't the first time Lex had asked that question, and he usually gave the same answer every time. It didn't begin to cover what he really felt, but he thought it might be as much as he would ever be able to express to Lex.

"What would it take to make you stop liking me?"

That was new, and Clark didn't much like the sound of it. "I-Is that what you want?" he asked, faltering, anxious, pained at the thought.

"That's not what I asked. What event or action would be enough - bad enough - to make you turn away from me?"

"I don't know, Lex. I can't imagine it, right now," he replied honestly. "I suppose - if you did something to really hurt those closest to me…."

Lex made a faint negating gesture. "I'm not talking about anything - personal."

"Then I don't know."

The first indications of any kind of emotion became visible. Lex seemed almost perplexed by Clark's answer. "You do know I'm not - squeaky clean."

Clark smiled a little again. "You've made quite a point of letting me know that. You've got your secrets, but then, I guess we all do, especially in Smallville. Lex, what's wrong? Please, you can trust me."

"I know," he replied, and there was a sudden ache of pain behind the dull voice that made Clark want to hug him tight and never let him go. Of course, he felt like that most of the time, anyway.

"You gave me a second chance," Lex went on, "but I think I'm fucking up as badly this time around as the first time."

"No, Lex, that's not true! You've straightened yourself out, you're focused, in control…"

"I've just done something I think I wished I hadn't," he bit out.

Clark froze briefly, but did not pull back. "You did? Or your father made you?"

"I don't know if I can tell the difference anymore."

"I can. Whatever it is, it's something your dad maneuvered you into."

"I couldn't see any options."

"I'm sure that's exactly how he meant it to be. Lex - you haven't killed anyone, have you?" That was the worst thing Clark could think of right now.

He smiled bitterly. "No. Only wrecked a micro-economy, a few dreams, ruined some lives. God knows, there might be a suicide or two, then perhaps you could say I'd killed someone."

"Here?"

"Not even. Just statistics. Names and figures on paper, halfway across the globe. Are you going to tell me that makes it okay?"

"No - but he's testing you again. Trying to reel you in."

"Why shouldn't I be reeled in? I've been engineered for it, after all."

"No, you haven't, Lex. Haven't you always said you make your own destiny?"

For the first time since he arrived, Clark saw 'Lex' - what he liked to think of as 'his' Lex - reappear fleetingly from behind the death mask, the frozen, china-white, blank face.

"You're so certain. I don't understand. How can you be so sure?"

Suddenly it was that simple.

Clark knew what he needed to do. He leaned forward and pressed his cheek to the pale hand he'd been holding, closing his eyes briefly at the touch of the cool skin against his flushed cheek, then looking up at Lex again.

"Because I love you, Lex."

If Lex had been still before, it was nothing to the impression he was giving now. For a moment, Clark thought Lex had actually stopped breathing, and he rubbed his cheek gently, comfortingly, against Lex's hand.

"It's okay, Lex, nothing's going to change," he tried to reassure his friend.

"I thought - what about - Lana… Chloe…?"

Clark shrugged a little. "I like them both a lot. I didn't understand that I wasn't really in love with either of them until recently. That's okay. I'd like to think I'll always have them as friends. It's not the same thing as you, even if this is all there's going to be."

The frozen mask that had been concealing Lex cracked wide open, to Clark's distress. He hadn't meant to add to Lex's problems.

"Clark…!" He sounded hoarse and uncertain, color returning to him, the gray tinge leaving his skin and eyes.

"It's okay!" he responded quickly. "You can forget I said anything. Maybe - maybe we should," he said anxiously, confused by the dawning light in  
Lex's eyes. "I mean, I - I'm not expecting anything, and - and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything. We're still friends. I still want us to be friends. It's just - you were hurting so bad, and you didn't seem to believe the friendship was enough. It is, but there's more, and I just wanted you to know why I stand by you…"

He was startled when Lex turned the hand under Clark's cheek to caress it, his thumb stroking across Clark's full lips to silence him.

"You're babbling, farmboy."

Clark fell silent, blue eyes wide and anxious as he looked up at Lex, trying to assess his mood and his reactions. The long fingers against his face and mouth felt wonderful, and encouraging, but he'd learned months ago never to take anything Lex did for granted. Lex's clear gaze seemed to be devouring Clark's features, as if he had never really seen the boy properly before.

"Lex…?" he ventured, his tone breathless.

His mouth was stroked softly again before Lex spoke, in a low, intimate, husky tone.

"I've wanted you from the moment I set eyes on you. There's not much I've ever considered unattainable, but that kind of relationship with you, that was one of the few things I just filed away there. You were too decent, too innocent, above all, too young, and it was enough - more than enough - that you wanted to be my friend. I told you once I'd do anything to protect my friends - even from myself, if need be. No matter what I really felt for you, most of all, I wanted to make sure nothing I ever did would extinguish that light I see in your eyes when you look at me, the one that says that you believe in me."

"I do believe in you."

Clark was positively glowing, his beautiful, open face alight with joy. Lex felt something in him crack open painfully, a door he had thought forever sealed shut.

"Clark…" He touched the boy's face tenderly again, almost flinching when Clark nuzzled into his hand. "You're so off-limits right now."

"I'm not a child, Lex, and I won't always be off-limits," Clark replied.

Lex was drawn to him as if by a magnet, and Clark turned his face up in open invitation.

"Just one taste," Lex muttered, largely to himself. "Just one, to keep me going."

"This is my promise to you," Clark responded softly, "that I'll be waiting for you, whenever you decide."

His mouth was the sweetest, hottest, wildest thing Lex had ever tasted in a long, varied and debauched history of tasting mouths - both girls' and boys'. It moved softly under his, and opened so willingly, and tasted of things Lex had thought he had forgotten, like love - or forgone, like redemption - and if his kiss tasted like this, what would his body taste like? The kiss burned through him, a sweet poison that was changing him, calling forth the dreams and aspirations he had denied or discarded over the years, calling forth all the options he had thought forever lost to him.

The kiss ended, but Lex could not take his lips away from the soft, clean skin for a moment or two longer.

"Lex…"

No one had ever said his name like that before, in love and wonder and simple, pure affection. He drew back a little, reluctantly, and rested his forehead against Clark's. He trembled involuntarily when Clark's hands came up and stroked his bare head lovingly.

"You love me," he whispered, awed, and closed his eyes to savor the revelation.

"I love you," Clark confirmed, his smile audible in his voice.

They remained leaning together like that for another long moment, then, with a deep breath, Lex pulled away from him, reluctantly. He looked down into Clark's face, his long fingers stroked through the soft, black waves of Clark's hair tenderly. He would once have derided his reluctance to break contact with Clark as a sentimental weakness, but now it felt more like clinging to a lifeline. He had been drowning again, and again Clark's touch, his kiss, was drawing him back to the light, and to new possibilities.

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/00001adc/)

 

"I want you to do something for me, Clark," he said finally, his voice rough, a little breathless.

"Anything, Lex," the boy smiled radiantly, eyes bright with so much love and trust that Lex had to close his eyes against that light briefly.

Lex shook his head with a faint and rueful smile. "Don't make promises like that," he grumbled, trying to sound severe and failing.

"Like promising to wait for you to be ready?" Clark sounded amused. "I can't do that. I mean, not promise that."

Lex opened his eyes again. Sure enough, Clark's smile now had a mischievous glint to it. "I meant don't just say 'anything' like that. You put ideas into my head."

Clark shifted from his kneeling position to sit on the floor, clasped his hands around Lex's knees and set his chin on them. "Good," he said happily.

That shining smile was so hard to resist.

"I'm serious, Clark," he said gently. "I want you to go home now."

"Lex!"

"Go home, and don't call me for a few days." Clark's smile disappeared, giving way to a look of bewilderment and hurt, and Lex ruffled his hair a little.  
"Don't look like that. It's just - you've given me a lot to think about, and I need some time. Also, I'd like to be sure you've really thought about what you're getting into."

"I won't change my mind," Clark said.

"I'd like to know you've given it some practical thought, Clark. This is going to be nothing like getting involved with some girl. Even if you'd just determined you're gay, that's tricky enough, both generally and specifically in this state. On top of that, you want me? You should know by now that 'simple' just isn't in my vocabulary. Please, Clark - for my peace of mind? If - " he faltered almost imperceptibly, "you've realized that it's not really what you want for yourself, I promise it won't make any difference to us. We'll still be friends. I'm not going to lose the best friend I've ever had over a… misunderstanding."

"It's not going to be a misunderstanding, Lex," Clark said calmly. "You know I love you now. I don't know about this time apart, it's just as likely to give you the time to talk yourself out of starting anything with me."

Something about Clark's tone made Lex smile a little. "And if I did?"

"I guess I'd just have to kiss you again until you changed your mind."

"That sounds tempting." His smile warmed, and he quickly put a finger on Clark's lips to stifle a protest. "Enough. I don't - This has been a strange evening, Clark. I think - I think I need to see if it's all going to stand up to the cold light of day. You sometimes have this gift of certainty, it's very appealing, but I'm not blessed that way. There could be - there will be," he corrected himself, "a lot of ramifications in this, and I need to think them through."

"Can't I help you do that?" Clark asked, a little plaintively.

"Come back on Friday," Lex sighed.

"Three days!" Clark protested.

"Friday," Lex repeated firmly, though Clark's crestfallen look was a real test of his willpower.

He pushed lightly at the boy's shoulder so that he could get up, and Clark shifted back, then scrambled to his feet himself.

"You're not going to disappear back to Metropolis?" he asked, his tone uncertain.

Lex smiled a little. "No, Clark, I'll be right here. I don't need to go anywhere to do my thinking, and the phone and laptop will be enough to make any arrangements I need to make."

"What kind of arrangements?" Clark asked curiously.

"That's what I need to spend some time thinking about," Lex returned enigmatically. "Come back on Friday, and I'll probably tell you all about it. If you haven't changed your mind, I will tell you."

"I won't change my mind."

Lex just smiled faintly, and pushed him towards the door gently. Clark went, reluctantly, but just before leaving, he paused.

"Oh, Lex?"

"Yeah?"

"The box?" He pointed at the plastic container he had placed on the table a while earlier. "I brought some of Mom's chocolate walnut cookies. The world's a much more cheerful place after a couple of those, I promise," he said with a quick grin.

Lex's laugh floated out after him.

**End Chapter 1**

[](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/1200.html#cutid1)


	2. Chapter 2

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 2 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 7960  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TWO**

 

Clark arrived back at the castle a little before lunchtime on Friday. He had run - fast - most of the way between his home and the castle, but now walked sedately up the long driveway. Trudged might be more accurate; it had snowed heavily over the last couple of days. He was muffled to the eyebrows, which was the only way his mother would let him leave the house, despite the fact he hadn't caught a cold in years and barely even felt it these days. He enjoyed her coddling, though, most times. Also, he knew Lex would get a kick out of seeing him all wrapped up like this, and he really wanted to see Lex smile, after the dreadful, bleak mood he had found his friend in three days earlier.

Of course, what he most wanted was for Lex to jump him, but he had a faintly nagging feeling that Lex was going to be depressingly noble about all of this. Clark spent the few minutes or so of regular-paced walking he was obliged to do thinking up scenarios in which he could convince Lex to jump him anyway, and just forget the nobility bit.

He was shown into the office, where Lex was on the phone, pacing behind his desk - not too rapidly, which was a good sign. The call was being conducted in German, from what Clark could hear, but when Lex saw him, he paused, visibly surprised. He said something to his correspondent, and put his hand over the mouthpiece.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

"In-Service day," Clark explained brightly. "We had the day off, and I did a, um, double-shift this morning, so I've got chores out of the way as well."

"I see," Lex nodded sagely, his eyes laughing.

He returned to his call, and quickly brought it to an end. He came up to Clark, corners of his mouth twitching in a suppressed smile.

"Are you sure you have enough layers there?" he asked solicitously.

Clark grinned, and began stripping off gloves, hat, scarf and parka, eyeing his friend assessingly. "I don't suppose you've even noticed it's snowed out there since I last saw you. You look like a raccoon, Lex. Have you slept at all since Tuesday?"

Lex actually looked a lot better and brighter than the last time, but it was true that there were large, dark smudges around his eyes, indicative of a lack of sleep.

"Thank you for that candid opinion, Clark," he returned dryly. "I've been a little busy, that's all."

Clark tossed his outer wrappings onto the nearest flat surface, then turned back to Lex, his expression now shy and hopeful.

"Well - it's daylight now, and it's certainly cold outside," he prompted expectantly.

Lex let out a long, soft sigh, reaching out to touch Clark's face lightly. "I really didn't dream it," he said quietly, more as if to himself than to Clark.

Clark turned his face into Lex's palm a little, moving closer. "Did you think you had?" he asked gently.

"I've had the odd hallucination before," Lex admitted, with a faint smile.

Clark moved closer still, right into Lex's space, his hands going to the older boy's waist. "Maybe you just need a little reminder," he suggested in a whisper, and bent his head to kiss Lex.

It was light and tender at first, almost chaste, but then Lex's fingers slid into Clark's hair, and his other hand gripped Clark's shoulder, holding him in place as the kiss intensified. Clark wrapped his arms around Lex, reveling in the feel of that lean form against his own body, and opened his mouth to Lex. The kiss ignited abruptly as they pressed together, and Clark suddenly knew why nobody else's kisses - not Tina/Lana, not Lana under the influence of that weird flower, not Chloe - had ever felt quite right to him.

They weren't Lex's.

They weren't hunger and thirst bound in a flame that danced in his veins to the pounding rhythm of his heartbeat. They didn't taste of coffee and spice and something Clark would only ever be able to define as 'Lex'. They didn't come with a strong and sinewy body under his hands and long fingers tangled in his hair, demanding, rather than accepting, everything he had to give.

It took a minute or two for it to sink in that those fingers were no longer holding, but trying to pull his head back gently, that the hand on his shoulder was pushing, not pulling, that Lex was trying to draw his own head back a little to break the kiss. Clark was confused, but he had learned some things well already, including that 'no' was 'no' regardless of the gender of his partner. Reluctant and bewildered, he let Lex pull back a bit, though he wasn't quite ready to free him from his embrace just yet. Nor did Lex seem quite ready to move that far away, either; he looked up at Clark for a moment, breathing a little heavily, skin flushed and eyes all pupil, and then closed his eyes, bowed his head, and rested his forehead in the center of Clark's broad chest for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Clark, really," he said softly, eventually. "I shouldn't have let it get that far. Shouldn't have kissed you again."

He slid his hands down Clark's arms, pushing gently until Clark released him, and he could step back.

"Lex…"

He shook his head, with a slight gesture as if to ask for Clark's silence, still clearly recovering his poise, and then went to the bar and fished a bottle of water out of the cooler.

"Want one?" he asked, his voice a little unsteady.

Clark nodded, and caught the small blue bottle Lex tossed to him.

"I don't understand, Lex," he said unhappily.

"I know."

"If it's the - the legalities of it…"

"Well - look, we need to talk. Have a seat, there are some things I need to tell you, and discuss with you."

"It's just - I want it, want you, and I didn't think you really bothered too much about legalities when it came to… to this kind of thing…"

Lex half-laughed. "I didn't. I wasn't dealing with you then, though. That's part of what we need to talk about, Clark." He cracked open his bottle and drank, a short, nervous gulp, then he seemed to pull himself together and headed for his desk. He pointed at the nearest chair.

"Sit."

Clark blinked at the peremptory command, then rolled his eyes a little. "Woof!" he went sarcastically - but he still sat down.

Lex grinned fleetingly. "You know," he said in a thoughtful tone, "if you were a dog, you'd be a Saint Bernard."

"Hey!" Clark objected.

"Well, think about it. Large, shaggy, friendly and ready to rescue whoever needs it," Lex elaborated teasingly.

"Very funny, Lex," Clark said repressively. However, the tension had eased between them. Lex sat on the edge of his desk, legs crossed at the ankles, watching Clark with more open affection in his face than Clark had ever seen from him before.

"First of all," he began, "I'm sorry I let things get a little overheated there. I was just - incredibly relieved you were still of the same mind as on Tuesday morning, but I didn't mean to wind you up. See, this isn't some casual affair to me…"

"To me, neither," Clark put in earnestly.

"No, I know. You don't really do casual, Clark," Lex smiled a little, "I've noticed that about you. As for me, the first time I set eyes on you, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen - and not just because you'd just pulled me out the river," he added, as Clark looked about to interrupt again. "But I think I fell in love with you the day you bit my head off about driving recklessly, remember? You'd been told someone close to you was going to die? I couldn't believe you included me in that circle. I had no right and no reason to expect it of you; you weren't family, we hadn't known each other very long, and yet you just - gathered me in, as if I'd always been there. That was part of the rebirth you'd offered me, the second chance you gave me when you saved my life. That was when I told myself that I never wanted you to be touched by all those aspects of my life that could only shock you and disgust you."

He paused for another mouthful of water, and Clark waited, knowing there was more, watching him steadily.

"I didn't do too well there," Lex went on, with a bitter twist to his mouth. "I realize now I wasn't trying hard enough. I've done a lot of thinking over the past couple of days, and I've seen that I didn't really take that second chance seriously enough. Or maybe I should say, I didn't realize its full potential. I thought it was a sign that it was time for me to assert my independence; I didn't consider that I couldn't really do that if I continued to play the same old game with my father. I might become free of him, but only by taking his place, and that meant - means - becoming him. When you told me you love me, though, I guess you could say I had an epiphany of sorts. I'd sworn to myself I wouldn't let anything harm you, but if I didn't change some things radically, I was the one going to harm you, and all the more so since you'd - chosen me. That's not going to happen. I'm going to earn your love, Clark."

Clark leaned forward, perturbed. "Lex, I love you the way you are," he protested.

He shook his head a little. "You love what I might be - what you've always seen I could be, better than I saw myself. You've always said I'm not my father; I was becoming him, I was letting things slide. I can't do that and keep you, and you're more important. You've reminded me of things I used to dream of, before I let myself get caught up in Dad's spider-web. Plans and ideas I used to have, that had nothing to do with LuthorCorp and that Dad blocked as soon as he found out about them because they weren't part of his master plan for me. A lot of those dreams I had were good ones, things I could share with you, things that I think would make you happy, that would make you feel you hadn't made a mistake in choosing me. Things that we can both live with in the future. I'm never going to be a philanthropist, Clark, I don't actually like most people enough for that," he said, with a touch of wry humor, "but I think that I can run a successful business without breaking any laws - well, mostly - and on a reasonably humanitarian basis."

"Mostly?" Clark queried, a little amused despite the seriousness of Lex's demeanor.

"You have no idea how difficult it can be not to break any laws at all," he said dryly. "Don't sidetrack me."

"No, Lex," Clark said meekly, but his earlier concern had faded, and he watched Lex confidently now. It was going to be okay, he was sure of it; Lex would be able to work things out for them both.

"Anyway," Lex continued, "I've set certain things in motion already. I've spent a couple of days going over my affairs, re-organizing finances - I'll explain it all to you if you really want to know, but it's a little complicated right now. The bottom line is that I'm out of LuthorCorp. This weekend, when the staff goes home, I'm going to move out of here."

"What?" Clark exclaimed. "Where to?"

"Don't quite know yet," Lex admitted wryly. "A hotel for the time being, probably. I'll be looking to buy someplace eventually. Never mind, that's not important right now. The thing is, I was waiting for you - waiting for today, to know if you were really serious - to put the finishing touches to my plans."

"You're not just leaving LuthorCorp," Clark said slowly, understanding dawning, "you've got something planned which is really going to upset your father."

Lex shrugged. "Probably, if my suspicions are correct. That's where we come to you and me and not getting intimate right away. I think that Dad's not going to take me too seriously at first. It'll take him a while to realize that I'm not still playing games with him, and really want to - emancipate myself. When he does realize that, he'll throw everything he has into the balance against me, and it'll stop being strictly personal. Before that, though, he'll try to force me to back down by whatever means he can find. I've already started preparing my defenses, but do you have any idea how much prison time I could get for messing around with you right now?"

Clark shook his head.

"Something like 28 years." He nodded at Clark's gasp. "Precisely. Once you're over sixteen, it goes down to about six months, maybe a couple of years at worst. Not that I find that particularly appealing, either, but it's an improvement. On the other hand, at that point, you're in trouble, too, but there are ways around all that. However, if Dad had even the remotest idea I was involved with an underage boy, with what I'm hoping to spring on him, he wouldn't have the least compunction in seeing me brought to trial."

"I guess," Clark admitted reluctantly. "So - no sex."

"No."

"What about after I'm sixteen?"

"I can take you out of state, maybe even out of the country," Lex smiled wryly. "That is, if we can persuade your parents to allow you go. I don't know. Skiing, maybe? Some kind of educational trip?"

"It certainly would be educational," Clark remarked in an amused undertone.

"Brat," Lex scolded affectionately.

Clark chuckled, but then sighed. "This all sounds like a plan, Lex, but I'm not very good at keeping things from my parents."

"I know." He paused for a bit, reflecting. "I'd like to think you - we - can tell them sooner rather than later that we're involved, but I think we need to play that by ear." He held out a hand to Clark, who took it promptly. "Still sure?" he asked, half-teasing, half-serious.

Clark looked up into the gray-blue eyes. "Do you love me?" he asked quietly.

Lex swallowed, and nodded earnestly, his voice failing him briefly.

"Then I'm sure. You're worth waiting for, Lex."

Lex got up and moved closer so he could draw Clark's hand up to his lips and kiss the knuckles gently. "I swear you'll never regret that decision, Clark," he whispered, his breath warm against Clark's skin.

They stayed like that for a moment, time suspended between them, then Lex released Clark's hand and drew back again.

"I've got one more call to make - probably the most important one - but it's lunchtime. It can wait for an hour or so. You want to come and see what Mrs. Norton can put together for us?" he invited casually, just as if it was like any other time Clark had dropped in.

Clark nodded, but looked a little worried. "You don't want your staff to know, either, about any of it, do you?"

Lex shook his head. "No, and I've got good reasons for that. I'll explain later. Are you worried about acting normally in front of my staff?"

"A bit," he admitted.

Lex shot him a sly look. "You shouldn't be. You've probably had as much practice at that kind of thing as I have."

Clark flushed. "Lex, I…"

Lex pressed a finger to his lips, a fleeting touch. "Shh. You don't need to say anything. I'm not asking anymore. It's part of the package now. You'll tell me when I've earned it. Just - maybe you don't have to work quite so hard at hiding it now, though, not from me," he suggested gently.

* * *

Keeping up a normal façade turned out to be easier than Clark had expected. He had been particularly worried about meeting Mrs. Norton. When the Palmers had returned to Metropolis, Lex had asked Martha Kent for a recommendation for a replacement cook, and she had suggested Mrs. Norton, who was an old friend of the Kents and had known Clark since he was a toddler. If anybody was going to notice anything different about him, it would be her, and it would get straight back to his parents. He was pretty sure, though, that she was seeing nothing other than one of his usual calls on Lex, and this despite the fact that they actually stayed in the kitchen to eat her cauliflower and cheddar soup and crusty rolls. They talked and joked with each other just the same as always, and Mrs. Norton just smiled approvingly to see them in good humor.

Back in the study, with two mugs and a large thermos jug of coffee, Clark asked, "You don't believe Mrs. Norton's spying on you, do you?"

Lex smiled swiftly. "No. If there's anyone on the staff here I'd be inclined to trust, it'd be her, but I wouldn't put that burden on her, either. No, whoever it is, it's not her." He eyed Clark with a touch of amusement. "You've been doing some thinking over lunch, I see. How did you come to the conclusion I think I'm being spied on?"

Clark shook his head. "You don't think, you know. You just don't know who. It's the only good reason for leaving here, I think, because you won't have complete control over your surroundings while you're living in a building which isn't actually yours, and staffed by people most of whose wages you don't pay personally."

Lex nodded approvingly. "Smart boy. That's quite right. As to how I know?"

He got up from the wingback chair and went to the wall safe. To Clark's surprise, he drew out what looked like just another bottle of water, but when he passed it to Clark, the younger boy saw there was something sitting in the water. On closer examination, it turned out to be two somethings; two little pieces of black hardware immersed in the liquid. Clark turned wide eyes up to Lex.

"Bugs?"

"These days, they call them ghosts. Wireless microphones - I haven't seen these models before, they must be fairly new, but they still tripped off my monitors. I found them late on Tuesday, in a fit of paranoia; one here, one in the library," he added self-mockingly. "The thing is, they're high frequency transmitters. That means that the signal needs to be recorded, there's no one actually sitting listening to live conversation. They send information in compressed bursts to a receiver, which records it. My guess is it's being treated like electronic newsgathering technology - someone collects the data weekly, and takes it away to be decoded. That means it gets picked up on Friday nights, by one of the staff to whom I habitually give the weekend off. I'm quite sure nothing's left here since the beginning of the week; I've been keeping my staff busy and often away from the premises. My problem is, I haven't found the receiver yet," he frowned. "It can't be far away, these things have a maximum radius of 300 feet, but it's inert unless it's tripped by a transmission. I couldn't activate both the ghosts and the tracker at the same time, so I've been unable to find it, and I really need to, or we're already in trouble."

"Our conversation on New Year's Day will have been recorded."

"Yeah. Sorry. I was pretty sure I was being spied on in some way, you know; I just accepted it as part of the game. You can use that kind of thing against the listener as well, you see. But - we're on a whole new playing field now," he smiled crookedly.

"How could you live like that, Lex?" Clark asked, troubled.

Lex shrugged, a bitter twist to his mouth. "I'm used to it."

"It's not right."

"It's just one of those things that seemed normal to me, until I came here."

Clark didn't know what to say. He wanted badly to hug Lex, but didn't dare; he felt acutely now that they were both on enemy territory. He had known Lex's life was difficult, but he had had no notion of just how bleak it really had been, until now.

Lex read his expression easily enough, and stepped forward to cup Clark's cheek gently. "Don't pity me, Clark," he said softly. "I love your compassion, but I won't accept pity. I can only change the future, not the past."

Clark nuzzled briefly into Lex's hand, and nodded; he could understand that. When Lex stepped back again, Clark looked up, thoughtful.

"Do you know what this recorder gadget looks like?"

"Not exactly, but I'd know it if I saw it."

"Could you describe it to someone else?"

"To you? Clark, I've spent the last three days looking for it, believe me."

"I know, but I can find it, Lex, I know I can. Tell me what we're looking for - even just indications. Oh, and make sure you've got all the keys so we can get in everywhere," he smiled swiftly. "If there's really something here, I can find it, Lex, trust me."

True to his word, Lex asked no questions, though his eyes blazed briefly with fierce curiosity. However, he simply nodded. "That would be very helpful, Clark, thank you. I'd like to make that call first, then we can see about the receiver."

"Maybe I should leave you?" Clark suggested hesitantly.

"No, stay," Lex said quickly. "If you want to, that is. You are my future, Clark, you have a right to be in on some things." He smiled as Clark nodded, visibly pleased.

As Lex went to his usual seat behind the glass-topped table, Clark shifted to one of the chairs in front of it, so he could watch. Lex picked up the phone, putting it on a conference setting to that Clark could hear both sides of the conversation and dialed.

_"Wayne Enterprises. How may I help you?"_ a receptionist answered.

"I'd like to speak to Bruce Wayne, please."

_"May I ask who's calling, please?"_

"Lex Luthor."

_"One moment, sir."_

There were a couple of clicks, and a pause. Lex quirked a smile at Clark over the desk. "No Muzak. I've always liked Wayne's class."

"He's a friend of yours?" Clark asked, intrigued. He read the newspaper, and according to reports, Bruce Wayne was one of the very few men actually richer than Lionel Luthor. They - or at least their respective corporations - were also ferocious rivals, apparently, except that Wayne's reputation was, to say the least, much better.

"Friends might be putting it a bit strongly. Potential allies is maybe nearer the mark," Lex replied diffidently.

Clark would have asked for an elaboration, but the phone line came alive again.

_"Mr. Luthor?"_ It was a man's voice now.

"Yes?"

_"I'm Lucius Fox. We haven't met, but…"_

"I know who you are, Mr. Fox," Lex said, all charm. "Wayne Enterprises' CEO. Bruce swears he'd be lost without you. It's a pleasure to speak to you at last."

_"Likewise, Mr. Luthor."_ Clark grinned fleetingly as the other man audibly melted in the face of Lex's charisma. _"I'm afraid Bruce isn't here right now. Is there anything I can help you with?"_

"No, I'm afraid not," Lex oozed regret. "I have to talk to Bruce personally. Is he out of town?"

_"Not to my knowledge. If you try the Manor, you should find him, or else Alfred will be able to redirect you. Do you have the Manor's number?"_

"Yes, I do. Thank you for your help, Mr. Fox."

_"Anytime. Goodbye."_

Lex dialed a new number.

_"Wayne Manor."_ The voice was still male, but older, very formal, and with a distinct English accent.

"This is Lex Luthor. I'd like to speak to Bruce, please?"

_"One moment, sir."_

The pause this time was shorter.

_"Lex."_ The voice was younger, crisp and firm and very deep. _"What can I do for you?"_

Lex wasted no time. "Remember recently I asked if you'd do a little… investigation on my behalf?"

There was a longish pause. _"Yes?"_

"Well, did you? Because I need the results now."

_"Lex - yes, I did, but…."_

"What?"

_"I don't know if you really want to hear them. What you don't know, in this case, isn't going to hurt you - whereas knowing…."_

"Is going to change things irrevocably. I know that, and they're things I should have had the courage to change some time ago," Lex said calmly. "I'm ready for it, Bruce, and I've chosen. Now I need the tools to move forward."

_"You're on an open phone line,"_ the hesitation was gone, _"and you have company, I can hear the conference setting."_

"My 'company' I trust with my soul, never mind my life," Lex said simply. Clark looked up, briefly startled, and smiled radiantly. "As to the phone line - what do you want me to do? I've already swept this end, it's clean."

_"Then I'll call you back via the computer. Just give me a couple of minutes."_

Clark was watching Lex, wide-eyed, as he hung up. "I thought you said you were paranoid. He sounds even worse."

Lex smiled crookedly. "It kind of comes with the territory, Clark. Though I'll admit Bruce is - a little stranger than most."

"I think I really should leave for the moment. You can call me when you're done…"

"No, on the contrary," Lex beckoned him closer. "Come on up here. Bruce will be setting up a video link, he likes to see who he's talking to. He already knows there's someone here; he'd prefer to get a look at you, I think. It'll reassure him. If that's okay with you, that is?"

Clark smiled, got up, and crossed the room, snagging a leather footstool on the way. He set it beside Lex, and settled himself comfortably, leaning slightly against the arm of Lex's chair. When he was done, Lex raised a hand to stroke Clark's cheek tenderly, leaning in towards him. They were millimeters away from kissing again when Lex's laptop pinged noisily. Lex froze, then sighed heavily.

"Saved by the bell," he said ironically, and sat up straight again.

Clark snickered faintly and ducked his head briefly to hide his hot face, but then watched Lex attentively as he typed in an ID and password to accept the incoming call.

The screen pixilated for a moment, then an image formed. The man was clearly a little older than Lex, though still under thirty, Clark judged. He was dark-haired and blue-eyed, and extremely handsome, though in a rather stern, austere way. He was also very large, easily as big as Clark himself, and looked very fit.

"Bruce," Lex acknowledged.

Wayne's dark blue eyes went immediately to where Clark sat by Lex's chair, within range of the web cam. Lex put a hand on Clark's shoulder.

"This is Clark Kent. He's a part of this, I have no desire to hide things from him."

His presence, even across a video link, was tremendous, Clark reflected, shifting a little uncomfortably under the intense blue gaze, as if Wayne was actually in the room with them.

_"No offense,"_ Wayne said, _"but - Lex, he's just a boy."_

Lex smiled crookedly. "You don't know Smallville, Bruce. Nothing's quite what it seems around here. I wouldn't be where I am now, in many senses of the word, if it wasn't for Clark. He's earned the right, and he'll keep me on track, believe me."

There was a long pause before Wayne inclined his head a little. _"It's your future, Lex."_

"That's what I'm hoping." The hand on Clark's shoulder tightened briefly before Lex withdrew it. "Now - what did you find out?"

_"Quite a lot. If you don't mind, I'd like to know what prompted you to question your mother's will in the first place?"_

"My former nurse, Pamela Jenkins, died recently. In her will, she left me the LuthorCorp shares that my mother had left to her, and also a letter. Most of that - well, all of it, really - was private, but in it she made a reference that caught my attention. She was clearly assuming I'd inherited something I haven't, and had no reason to suspect that I might. Except Pamela was maybe my mother's closest friend at the end of her life, and she might well have been privy to the contents of her will. Under the circumstances, I see no reason why Pamela would have lied in that letter, which was clearly always meant to be delivered post-mortem. So I started to wonder."

Wayne nodded. _"Your reasoning is sound. The will that was enacted on your mother's death is a forgery."_

Even though he had been expecting something of the sort, the confirmation, stated so bluntly by the Gotham billionaire, was a shock. "How?" he asked, hoarsely.

_"We'll come to the 'how' a bit later, I think. What you need to know now is that I have found a copy of your mother's will…."_ He corrected himself. _"No, not a copy, a second will, post-dated to the one that was enacted, but identical to the original, in a lawyer's office in Saint-Girons, which is a small town in the French Pyrenees. There is also, I believe, a copy in a Swiss bank vault, but I couldn't, for obvious reasons, verify that. You should be able to."_

"Why didn't the bank or that French lawyer draw attention to the copies when my mother died?"

_"The bank had no idea of the contents of the vault - that's hardly unusual. As to the lawyer, I don't think he fully realized just who he was working for. I don't think he made any connections when your mother died. I'm not even sure if he heard about it in the first place; I've done a cursory search through newspaper archives, and outside the States, her death was barely mentioned. I certainly couldn't find any French paper references."_

"I take it you've seen the original? What differences are there?"

_"The will in Metropolis is a very good forgery, and the differences are, in fact, minimal, though crucial. As things stand, you inherited on your 21st birthday a share portfolio, and the residue of your mother's estate, which at the time of probate turned out to be extremely substantial, and which your father turned into three trust funds, also in Switzerland."_

"That's right."

_"Lionel was named as your trustee."_

"Yes."

_"Okay. The share portfolio and the residual legacy, that's unchanged. Virtually all of the bequests are also identical - including Mrs. Jenkins' one, by the way."_

"I never imagined otherwise."

_"Well, you might when you hear what I have to say. In fact, there are only two major changes. Among the bequests in the forged will is a specific one naming your father as the recipient of the stock of eight chemical research and production companies collectively known as Rutherford Industries. The original will gave that stock to you, and named one of your mother's sisters, a Mrs. Rutherford-Lyle, as your trustee."_

"Aunt Eleanor?" Lex's eyes widened. "I haven't seen her in years. Not since I was living in London."

_"Yes, well, as far as I can tell, she never suspected anything either. Like I said, it's a very good forgery."_

"So - you're saying Dad bought me out of my mother's companies?"

_"Not quite. I'm saying Lionel switched values on you. You'd know better than I do, but I suspect that he simply didn't want to let go of any part of LuthorCorp, and Rutherford was being run as an integral part of the LuthorCorp empire all through your parents' marriage. I'm not quite sure why he didn't alter the bequest to Mrs. Jenkins…."_

"Probably because she already knew about it, just like she knew something about what was supposed to come to me," Lex supplied, a little absently, then focused sharply on Wayne again. "Let me get this straight. My father knew the contents of my mother's will in advance, and in order to protect LuthorCorp interests, falsified the will and who knows what other documents so that instead of inheriting shares - which would have been under the voting control of an exterior party until I turned 21 - I ended up with a capital sum which he placed in trust funds in Switzerland?"

Wayne nodded. _"That's about the size of it."_

"How did he manage to do this?"

_"Your mother went to a lawyer in Metropolis called Shelby in the first instance. The will was drawn up about three years before her death and he was to be the executor. However, Shelby developed bowel cancer, and died rapidly, a year before your mother. His practice was taken over by his son-in-law, Mitchell Artjunian, who therefore automatically became the new executor. I can only assume that Artjunian saw a means of feathering his nest, and went to your father with the contents of your mother's will."_

Lex massaged the bridge of his nose lightly. "It wouldn't be the first time Dad's had information that way," he agreed.

_"There's no proof of this, you understand?"_

"What about these trust funds?"

_"The Swiss banking system is quite efficient in protecting its clients' anonymity, as long as there's no suggestion of criminal activity involved. You don't want to know how I found out about the contents of the safe,"_ he said wryly. _"If you want to know more about the origins of the funds, I can suggest what things you need to look for, but you've got to do it yourself. They'll talk to you, since you're the legitimate account holder. However, you'd probably get more information from Artjunian."_

"He's still around?" Lex asked, surprised. When Wayne nodded, he made a faintly contemptuous noise. "Dad's slipping. I'd have thought he'd have shipped the man off to some obscure location with no extradition agreement. What about the original documents? Do you have them?"

_"I've left them where I found them. I have people keeping a close eye on both sites, but I judged it better, if you're going to produce them some time, that you get them yourself. You're entitled, after all, as the principal beneficiary and her son."_

"Won't I need a key for the bank safe?"

_"It's not that kind of system. You'll have to produce a lot of I.D., particularly as she didn't use her married name on the papers."_

"Where's the upkeep coming from? There must be an annual charge?"

_"She paid 20 years up-front."_

"I used to think I got all my planning skills from my father," Lex said, a touch bemusedly. "I think I've underestimated my mother." He was lost in thought for a moment, then nudged Clark gently. "Is there any coffee left?"

Clark got up silently to get their mugs and refresh them from the thermos, then brought them back to the desk and resumed his place at Lex's side.

Wayne was watching Lex steadily, waiting for the young man to clarify his thoughts.

"What are my options?" he asked eventually.

_"That depends on what you want, Lex. As things stand, you're more than comfortably off."_

"What if I want what should have been mine? Can I contest the will?"

_"You can't contest it in probate, it's too late for that. However - when did you get that letter from Mrs. Jenkins?"_

"Last month."

_"You've still got it?"_

"Of course."

_"Based on that, you could file a suit for fraudulent concealment. You could also try negotiating first. You've got two years to file that suit, as of the date you received the letter. That also means you can hold back on producing the original will until and unless you do go to court with a suit. The letter alone should be enough to get things started."_

"He must have taken that money from LuthorCorp," Lex mused. "I mean, he's rich, but no one's got something like a quarter of a billion lying around in loose change. If the shareholders ever found out…. I could offer to restitute it, if he gives me Rutherford Industries back. I've only ever really used the interest. Can you identify the Rutherford Industries companies for me?"

Wayne nodded. _"I'll mail you a list. They've been doing very well. They're an important part of LuthorCorp's R &D program, and they've been turning a nice profit for years. Are you thinking of incorporating independently?"_

"I don't know yet. With Pamela's bequest, I now own almost 16% of LuthorCorp stock outright."

_"Combined with Rutherford, that would make you a very serious player on LuthorCorp's board,"_ Wayne agreed. _"It might be easier - I imagine your father would fight tooth and nail to keep you from splitting off from LuthorCorp with those assets."_

"I'd still be playing his game, though. I've had enough of that."

_"There's something else you need to consider. If you file this suit for fraudulent concealment, it will come to the attention of the public prosecutor's office, and there's a distinct likelihood that Lionel could also find himself up on criminal charges."_

"Of fraud?"

_"Forgery, perhaps, though maybe the statute's up on that, too. I don't know exactly, that would depend on the D.A.'s assessment of the situation."_

"They've tried before, you know," Lex said dryly. "Dad's always wriggled out of that kind of thing."

_"It might also depend on the nature of the evidence you present for your own case. All that's got to be assessed. The thing is, are you ready to take it as far as you need to?"_

Lex was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I can take it that far," he said coolly. "Like I said, I want out, Bruce, I've had enough. You heard about the Alster takeover?"

The Gotham billionaire's face hardened, and he nodded.

"That was me," Lex said, his tone harsh. "I didn't want to do it; he knew that I thought it was pointless and inefficient, so he forced me into going through with it regardless, just as a test. I've really had enough. I want to cut my ties to LuthorCorp, I want my father off my back, and I'm ready to fight for that."

_"Above board?"_

"Above board."

_"Start this ball rolling, Lex, and I'm not quite sure where it might end up. I don't know Lionel well enough to predict his reactions."_

"I do. It's more complex than you might imagine, but I promise you, I'm through playing games, though he might not see it that way for a while. To start with, I'd like to borrow your company lawyers. I'm going to need advice, and probably documents drawn up, and I don't want him hearing about any of it. Not to mention a new will," he added, with a grim twist to his lips.

_"I hope that's a worst case scenario you're envisaging there, Lex. Come to that, a new will might not stop him. You have no direct heirs. Technically, even with a will, he could contest it and quite possibly get it overturned, as your father. Also, speaking of information that you wish protected, you've got to move out of there. You need new premises, protected, with private lines."_

"I know. I'm working on it. I'll be out of here this weekend, I can tell you that. Speaking of which, I have a new cell number: 913-555-7474."

Wayne looked away for a moment, obviously taking note.

_"Okay. It's not enough, though. You can't work out of a hotel, or through a cell connection indefinitely. You need the PC, land lines…"_

Clark touched Lex's arm lightly, who glanced at him questioningly.

_"I've maybe got an idea about that,"_ Clark said softly.

Lex looked intrigued, but smiled a little and nodded before turning back to the screen.

"I know how to reach you, Bruce; you'll know my arrangements right after I do."

_"If you're serious about this, Lex, about turning your back on your father, then I'll help you in every way I can."_

"I am serious. Dad wants to turn me into something I now know I don't want to be, and I've had it with his mind-fucks. I may never be the kind of White Knight you often are, but I don't want to be him, either. I want to go back to my original interests and research, go back to my studies in biochemistry. I can run a business, and I will, but not the way he's doing it. I've never had the chance to show it, but I'm good at both chemical and engineering research. I have my own projects in mind."

_"You're better than good, Lex,"_ Wayne said calmly. _"I've seen quite a bit of your work. If you'd taken out patents in your own right, there are several recent LuthorCorp innovations that would be directly attributable to you. The question is whether you think the end is worth the means, or not."_

"The end has always been worth the means," he said wryly. "You're asking the wrong question. The end I have in sight now has other requirements; things my Dad would never understand. I don't expect you to understand right away, either, but I've been shown a new goal, something I want very badly, and which I will never get if I continue in Dad's footsteps. I'm no altruist, and once I'd have said any means were good to no matter what end, but I know that's not true anymore, and I'm willing to live up to that."

There was a long silence, then Wayne nodded briefly. _"Fair enough. I'm sending you some documents over this link. You'll find outlines of the initial steps, and I'll have my best lawyer call you first thing on Monday. You've got to find an open line you can use safely, and be very careful for the next couple of weeks, that's when you're at your most vulnerable. I imagine Lionel's reaction is going to be - lively, even if, as you say, he's not going to realize how serious you are right away."_

"I'll call you with a new contact number as soon as I've got one."

Wayne nodded, then a faint, slightly grim smile touched his chiseled mouth. _"I may come down there and join you for a couple of days. It sounds like it could be entertaining."_

Lex gave a choked laugh. "Entertaining? You're weird, Wayne, you know that? Oh, look, there's something else I'd like you to do for me."

_"What?"_

"The plant here in Smallville - can you arrange to buy it from LuthorCorp? There'll be a window of opportunity.... I think - I'm almost certain one of the first reactions my father's going to have will be to shut it down. If he can sell it off instead, make some sort of profit, he'd certainly prefer that, but not if he thinks it's in any way to my benefit, actual or hypothetical. Once the dust has settled, I'll buy it back, with interest. I can let your people have the latest figures in a couple of hours."

_"I thought you said you weren't an altruist,"_ Wayne commented shrewdly.

"I'm not, but I intend on living here for a while yet - I could use the goodwill," Lex remarked wryly.

_"Right."_ The intonation was very subtle, not quite disbelieving. _"I'll see what I can do, Lex."_

The video link cut off, and the whistle of a modem indicated the transmission of some documents. Lex reached for the pack of blank CD-RWs sitting on the desk, and fed one into the laptop.

"Lex?"

He looked at Clark with a wry smile, and put a hand up to stroke Clark's unruly black hair, as if he couldn't help himself. "Yeah?"

"What's going to happen?"

"I'm about to go to war," he said, his mouth set in a tight line. "Dad doesn't know it yet, and probably won't believe it for a while, like I told you, but it's still likely to be messy."

"About a new place - I've thought of something, Lex, but I need to do a little research first. In the meantime, you should come and stay with us."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "Clark - your father really doesn't like me…"

"He doesn't know what to make of you," Clark replied honestly. "You're right that he doesn't trust you. On the other hand, you've never done anything really wrong, and you've never behaved like your dad. Mom's definitely getting used to you - she was really flattered you asked her about a new cook and not Nell Potter."

"I have no time for Nell Potter," Lex said dryly.

"Okay, but Mom didn't know that, and you do have a… a connection with Nell, after all."

"I'm going to get good advice from one of Dad's mistresses? Oh, please! Dad strenuously avoids screwing genuinely intelligent women; the potential repercussions are too serious for him. I, at least, know a viable source when I meet one."

Clark grinned swiftly. "Lex - you like my mom."

Lex eyed him askance for a moment, then shrugged. "Yes. Your father doesn't know how lucky he is, let me tell you."

Clark thumped his arm lightly. "Hey!"

"You started this line of conversation," Lex defended himself, laughing a little.

"I was trying to say that if she likes you, and I like you, Dad will come around, eventually."

"When the next Deluge comes," he muttered under his breath.

"Stop that. He's not that bad."

"Clark, he's profoundly suspicious of me at the best of times, and I dread to think how he'd react if he had any notion of what I'd like to do to his baby boy!"

"Yeah, well, his 'baby boy' is growing up, regardless," Clark said firmly, "and he's going to have to learn to trust my judgment some time. I think if I really ask, he'll allow it - you moving in for a while, I mean - especially if you let me tell him something of what you're planning. That you want out from LuthorCorp. That your father's more or less defrauded you, and that you're willing to see him in jail if that's what it takes to win your freedom."

"I guess that would please your father," Lex smiled grimly. "I'm not sure about you telling him anything, though. You do understand this has to stay totally under wraps for as long as possible."

"I know. Some things are going to be obvious pretty quickly, though, like you moving out of the castle."

"True enough."

"Besides," Clark added, in a lighter tone, "you need to live with someone else for a little while, if only to take a few cooking lessons so you can look after yourself. I bet you can't even boil water," he tacked on, cheekily.

Lex gave him a narrow-eyed stare, then cuffed him on the ear lightly. "You'd lose, farmboy," he said, "though I'll admit my repertory's limited."

"Well, watching Mom's a good way to pick up a few things, trust me."

"You're going to insist, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"And I know exactly how stubborn you can be," Lex sighed. "Very well - I guess you can always ask, and call me later to let me know. I will be looking into alternative arrangements, though."

Clark stood, smiling. "You won't need them," he said confidently, and then leaned down to kiss Lex's mouth lightly. "Come on. Get your keys and let's go look for that recorder."

 

**End Chapter Two**


	3. The Oak and the Cypress (03/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 3 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 6731  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER THREE**

"You _what_?!"

"I told Lex he could come here for a few days, while he gets some things sorted out," Clark repeated calmly. "He needs somewhere quiet and safe to stay, and use of a phone line that's not tapped."

"Tapped?" It was Martha; Jonathan was speechless. "Clark, honey - what have you gotten into?"

"Lex needs help, Mom. He's had enough. He wants out, he wants to break free, once and for all, and maybe put his father behind bars while he's at it."

"I'd like to see that," Jonathan growled.

"Your father's right, Clark, Lionel Luthor's not the kind of man you put in prison that easily."

"I don't think it's going to be easy, but from what Lex has told me, there might be real grounds. Mr. Luthor tampered with his wife's will to keep the companies she owned as part of LuthorCorp, instead of letting them go to Lex as originally intended."

"Surely they would have been part of LuthorCorp anyway, while Lex was still a minor?" Martha queried.

"Apparently not. Mrs. Luthor's sister was supposed to be Lex's trustee, not her husband. He had that changed, too. It seems pretty obvious he wasn't risking any control leaving his hands."

"Surely that's seriously illegal?" Martha looked at her husband, perplexed.

"Maybe - if it can be proven," Jonathan said skeptically. "I don't see it happening. Lionel's got a lot of influence; I think there'd be real problems proving a case like that against him. Besides, what does that have to do with Lex? That's something for the District Attorney's office to look into."

"The only way they're going to hear about it is because Lex is probably going to file a civil suit for the re-establishment of the terms of his mother's will. The real will, that is."

"Only probably?"

Clark shrugged a little. "I think - he didn't actually say this, but I think he's going to try negotiating first, see if he can settle things without too much fuss."

Jonathan laughed shortly. "Some chance! I bet Lionel would kill rather than give up any scrap of LuthorCorp." He stopped abruptly, struck by a thought. "Clark - is Lex actually afraid for his life? Is that why he wants out of the castle?"

"I don't think so, Dad. He said he thought his father probably wouldn't take him too seriously at first. He doesn't sound scared to me, he sounds pretty mad, if anything. He's just being careful, not wanting his plans to be leaked. He said he's always known there was somebody on his staff who was spying on him and reporting back to Mr. Luthor. Also, he just doesn't want to owe anything to LuthorCorp while he's doing all this. The castle's not actually his, you know, and he's not paying the wages of the staff. He's, well, tidying up things like that."

Clark was watching his father carefully, and he could see that the idea that Lex might be in some sort of actual danger from Lionel Luthor was bothering him. Martha was getting the same impression.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Do you remember, after that business at the plant, with Earl keeping the kids hostage? Lionel was making a big song and dance afterwards, you know, family values and all that. I always thought Lex looked really uncomfortable, almost like he was afraid of his father's touch."

"He knew it was phony just as much as you did, Dad," Clark said quietly. "He's always known. He's just not willing to pretend anymore. Can I please call him and tell him it's okay to come here for a while?"

Jonathan still looked more than doubtful, but Martha turned to him earnestly. "A little honest support may be the very thing Lex needs right now. Don't you see that it's a real chance?"

"Whatever it looks like, Martha, he was still raised by Lionel."

"Maybe so, but I don't think that makes him the same person. If he's so much like Lionel, don't you think he's been acting completely out of character for months? Ever since he came here, in fact? Turning the plant around without losing jobs? Lex risked his life in that business with Earl. What about setting up that game for Whitney and his dad? He's been reaching out to us - to all of us here, I think - in his own way, for a long time. Yes, he's been kind of clumsy about it, but he doesn't know any better. God knows, he's never had anything like a good example to follow, and we haven't made it any easier by either turning our backs on him or ignoring his efforts. Clark may be the only person in the whole town who's never done that, and it looks to me like Clark's been right all along."

Jonathan looked at her, and then at his son. "I guess I don't need to ask what you think," he said to the boy, his tone dry, and Clark just smiled a little. The farmer sighed. "Okay. I just hope we don't regret this."

Clark's smile became a beam, and he headed for the phone.

_"Lex,"_ came the young man's clipped tones over the receiver.

"Hey," Clark said gently.

_"Oh."_ Recognition was instantaneous, and the terse voice warmed immeasurably. _"So?"_

"It's cool," Clark said simply.

_"Really?"_ Lex sounded amused. _"Somehow, I doubt it was that simple. Never mind, you can tell me later. I'll be by on Sunday, if that's okay with your parents?"_

"Not tomorrow?"

_"Some of the staff will still be here tomorrow morning. I want to be sure everyone's gone before the removal people come to put my stuff in storage. I'd like to keep my move quiet a day or two longer, if possible. Sunday, early evening."_

"Do you want me to come help you pack?" Clark asked hopefully.

_"That's what the movers are there for, Clark,"_ Lex pointed out dryly. _"No, you just stick with your normal routine. No point upsetting your folks any more than strictly necessary. I'll see you on Sunday."_

* * *

It wasn't one of Lex's sleek European sports cars that pulled up outside the yellow farmhouse that Sunday a little after six, but the very truck Lex had offered Clark some months earlier. Clark made no comment, just smiled and reached in for a couple of the bags in the back. Jonathan eyed the truck warily.

"Doesn't seem quite your usual speed, Lex," he remarked.

"Actually, it's more comfortable than I realized," Lex returned amicably. "Plus, it has the advantage of being the only vehicle in the garage that wasn't actually purchased by LuthorCorp, but directly by me."

Jonathan's eyebrows rose at this, but he made no direct comment. "Well, Clark can show you to your room. Uh - I don't know how you want to, well, set up office space while you're here…?"

"Wherever you've got room for me, Mr. Kent. There's just a couple of items I need to install in specific locations, if you'll give me a few minutes to unpack them."

"Sure. Martha said dinner'll be around seven tonight."

"Thank you. It's very kind of you both."

Jonathan grunted vaguely, and tramped off through the sludge towards the barn.

Clark grinned at his friend and jerked his head towards the house. "Come on, let's get you settled in."

Lex followed, not bothering to hide his smirk. "Cool, huh? I've met friendlier barbed wire fences."

"He hates being proved wrong, and you're about to, big time."

"Reserve that judgment. I'm probably going to make him blow a gasket later on tonight."

Clark looked at him over his shoulder as they were climbing the stairs. "Lex? What have you done?"

"Hmm?" Lex suddenly sounded vaguely distracted. "Oh - just something that had to be done. I'll explain later, to all of you."

Clark showed him to the guest room, and peered at him concernedly. "Lex, are you okay? You seemed a little, well, out of it just there."

Lex dropped the bag he was carrying on the bed, alongside the other two, and turned to give Clark a sly, sultry, heavy-lidded look. "I was distracted by the view. Anyone ever tell you that you have the sexiest ass…?"

He chuckled wickedly when Clark blushed poppy red.

"Lex! You - you…!" the boy spluttered, half wanting to laugh, too, and half wanting to hide from embarrassment.

Smiling, Lex touched his hot face fleetingly, then moved his hand beyond to ruffle the dark curls. "Sorry," he said, audibly not sorry in the least. "I really shouldn't have kissed you, it's just fueled a thousand steamy little fantasies, and you'll have to forgive me if some of them show at times."

"Like when you're following me upstairs?" Clark smiled wryly, his embarrassment fading.

"Mmh," Lex made an appreciative noise. "Eye-candy, farmboy, of the very best quality. I think the word you were looking for was 'lech'?" he suggested, equally wryly.

Clark laughed. "If you say so. Can I help you unpack?"

"Sure," Lex smiled, glad to have Clark near and all to himself for a little longer.

* * *

About fifteen minute later, both boys returned downstairs, both carrying square black cases. Martha was in the kitchen, setting the places at the table.

"Hello, Lex," she smiled. "Is your room okay?"

"Good evening, Mrs. Kent. The room's fine. Thank you very much for your hospitality."

"I'm glad we're able to help in some way," she said simply. Then she eyed the cases they were carrying. "Jonathan said something about electronic gadgets. Is that them?"

Lex nodded. "If you'll excuse us for a few minutes while I install these? You won't notice any difference once they're in."

"Go right ahead. I'll assume you're not going to short-circuit everything."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Mrs. Kent. Especially not right before dinner," he smirked.

"Good call," she approved solemnly, eyes laughing.

Lex nudged Clark lightly. "Come on, show me where you've got your telephone base set. You use a single line for both the telephone and the computer, right?"

"Yes. You going to tell me what these things are," Clark asked, as he pointed out the base set to Lex, "or are you going to stay all Twilight Zone on me?"

"This isn't Twilight Zone," Lex scoffed, opening the cases and sitting down on the floor. "Well, aside from the fact that we're living in it, anyway. It's more like Mission: Impossible. Do you have numbers programmed into the speed dial?"

"Yeah."

Lex disconnected the regular handset and plugged it into a palmtop unit, then passed it back to Clark. "Here. Call them up, one after another. Wait 'til you see the number flash up on the screen before going on to the next one. Don't worry, you're not hooked into the phone line, so you won't be connected to anyone."

Clark sat down beside Lex. "Yes, but what am I actually doing?" he sighed, starting to dial up one number after another.

"Programming a SIM card for this," he took out a sleek gray oblong, which looked like a compact version of a combined fax/scanner/copier, "so that it responds just like your usual phone. Before you ask, it's an encryption unit."

"A scrambler?" Clark was wide-eyed.

"It's a bit more sophisticated than that, but if that's how you want to think of it, be my guest. Are you done yet?" Lex had the cover off the unit, and was now opening something that looked like a very slim card case.

"Hang on, Speedy Gonzalez," Clark complained.

"Clark, I let you call me a lot of things, but I draw the line at a hyperactive Mexican mouse. Are you done yet?" he repeated impatiently.

"Okay, okay - sheesh, you didn't say you wanted this yesterday. There. Now what?"

Lex disconnected the palmtop, typed in a couple of commands, then pressed a key, and the SIM card slid out of its slot. He fished a pair of tweezers out of the carrying case, and opened the little card case to reveal two other SIM cards. He proceeded to detach the chips from their supports, very carefully, and insert them into the encryption unit. Clark watched, fascinated.

"I don't suppose you'd know," he remarked in a conversational tone, "since your dad was never into, um, conventional toys, but there used to be this dexterity game - actually, I think it's still being made - called 'Doctor,' or maybe it was 'Operation'. Something like that, anyway. You had this box, with a picture of a guy prepped for surgery on top and, uh, cavities where the main organs are, sort of, and then you had little plastic organs to fit. You had to extract the organs with these special tweezers, and if you touched the sides of the cavities with the tweezers, the 'patient' would let out this big scream, and his nose would light up, and there'd be a warning bell…"

He stopped, because Lex was looking at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Are you comparing what I'm doing now to - _that_?" he asked incredulously.

Clark cracked up. "You should see your face!" he gasped, in between whoops of laughter.

"Fingerprints on the chips damage the contact points," Lex began loftily, but then pushed the giggling teenager hard enough to topple him over, where he lay, still chortling. "Shut up, farmboy," Lex grinned, and went back to work.

In the kitchen, where all this conversation was perfectly audible, even if she couldn't see them, Martha grinned, too. She had never really heard Clark and Lex interacting before, and although she thought she understood why Clark found Lex interesting, she had often wondered just what they had to talk about. Maybe these weren't exactly typical circumstances, but it certainly sounded like they had a well-established comfort zone.

Lex finished his installations just about the time Jonathan reappeared, washed and changed for dinner, so the three of them all turned up in the kitchen at the same time. The farmer thought there was an odd atmosphere in the room; faintly euphoric, almost. Lex looked amused, but slightly put-upon, Clark was beaming, while Martha was also very amused.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Everything's fine," Martha answered. Her demure tone should have warned him, but he really wasn't prepared for it when she added, "The boys have just been playing doctor."

Three heads snapped up to look at her with varying reactions.

"What?" Jonathan exclaimed, in a strangled tone.

"Mom!" That was Clark, scarlet with confusion and embarrassment.

Lex, on the other hand, gave her a bright look of appreciation and humor, and merely remarked smoothly, "Oh, I think I'm a little old for that now, Mrs. Kent."

She smiled at him warmly. "I don't know, Lex. I don't know if you can ever be too old to learn how to be a child again - especially if you didn't get much chance the first time around."

He was silent for a moment, still watching her, his head a little tilted to one side. "Maybe you're right." His eyes flickered towards Clark briefly as he smiled. "I've got a good guide, then." His tone became brisker. "If you've got a minute before dinner, there are a couple of things I'd like to show you."

"Oh, sure, Lex," she agreed cheerfully, putting aside the baster.

He let her pass first into the living room, and as he went to join her, he patted Clark on the shoulder.

"Breathe, farmboy," he murmured, smirking faintly.

The Kent men watched them move out, recovering their composure. Jonathan shook his head a little. "Sometimes your mother…"

"… has a really weird sense of humor," Clark nodded. "Um - the 'doctor' joke - I was explaining to Lex about this game I remembered, where you had to… Uh, never mind, it's a bit complicated, but it's not…you know…." His voice tailed off, embarrassed.

"No, of course not." Wondering if Lex was going to be a bad influence on his wife, as well as his son, Jonathan went off to find out what the young tycoon had done to their telephone.

* * *

Dinner, when they sat down to it, turned out not so different from usual, although Martha was rather nervous about feeding Lex. When she asked him for the fifth time if everything was okay, he fixed her with a clear look.

"Mrs. Kent, I don't know what Mrs. Norton's been telling you about my eating habits…"

She blushed slightly, embarrassed to have been caught gossiping.

"… but I'm really not such a picky eater. I don't have a large appetite, and since there's a certain tendency in this area to, uh, healthy portions, I think she thinks I'm just fussy. I'm not. There's not much I don't like, actually, and this is delicious."

She looked at him a little critically. "You know, you could do with a little extra meat on those bones."

"You'll forgive me if I say I think my mass to weight ratio's just fine the way it is," he grinned swiftly.

"Well, that's as polite a way of telling anyone that you've had enough as I've heard, Lex. I guess my boys do eat heartily," she added teasingly.

"I wouldn't presume regarding Mr. Kent, but I've certainly seen Clark inhale a meal or three," he concurred, straight-faced.

"Hey!" Clark protested laughingly. "I'm a growing boy."

"God forbid!" came the earnest, simultaneous response from the other three.

Lex and the Kents blinked at each other in astonishment at the unexpected harmony of thought, and the couple burst out laughing as Lex hid his smile behind one hand.

"It's not like I'm the only one to notice," Lex pointed out to Clark, eyes dancing with laughter. "The way I've heard it, one day you were the same height as Pete Ross, and kind of chubby to boot, and the next, you'd become this towering Goliath."

"It kind of seemed that way to us, too," Martha smiled. "It was a bit of a surprise to wake up to this young giant eating everything in sight." She tousled Clark's curls, as the boy ducked his head, embarrassed. "I did wonder for a day or two what had happened to the cute little boy I knew."

"Hey, I had no problems with Clark's growth spurt," Jonathan said smugly.

"No, you got yourself a new farm-hand to help with the chores," Clark said tartly, recovering briefly. "One you didn't have to pay union wages to, either."

"Is it likely to happen again?" Lex asked, genuinely curious.

"No, I don't think so," Martha smiled. "He seems to have, well, grown into his hands and feet, which is usually a good indication, even if the coordination's still a little off sometimes. I think the only way Clark's going to grow now is sideways." When Clark turned horrified eyes on her, she giggled. "I meant you'll probably bulk up some, honey. You've only recently got rid of the puppy fat, after all."

"Puppy fat!" Clark exclaimed, outraged.

"Well - you were kind of roly-poly when you were little," Jonathan conceded, smiling at the memory.

"Have you got photographs?" Lex asked, fascinated.

"No!" Clark objected loudly.

"Of course we have, Clark," Martha said demurely.

"Oh, God," Clark groaned, sinking his head into his hands. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Lex chucked deeply. "I'll make a deal with you. You let your folks show me some pictures of you as a chubby toddler, and I'll let you see some of me when I still had hair."

Clark opened one eye balefully. "I hardly think that balances out in the embarrassment stakes, Lex."

"Shows how much you know. I was a flaming red mop-top - and when I say curls, I mean Shirley Temple curls. Believe me, I preferred being bald, no matter how weird it might seem. Infinitely preferable to the humiliation of being called both 'Carrots' and 'Little Lord Fauntleroy'."

"You were a redhead?" Clark's curiosity overcame his embarrassment.

Lex nodded, his expression wry. "Oh, yeah. You think this complexion," he touched his alabaster-pale cheek, "came courtesy of the meteors? No, that's natural. I missed out on the freckles, thank God," he added, with pious fervor.

"I wondered if the exposure might have altered your complexion," Martha said, with some interest. "You've always looked, well, a little unnaturally pale to me, and yet you seem perfectly healthy."

"Forgive me if I say you've forgotten how city-bred folk tend to look unless they resort to tanning salons," Lex returned, with a crooked smile that took away any insult from the comment. "I've always been pale. I didn't tan well, either. I know there have been changes from the radiation, less obvious changes than the hair," Lex continued, "like the asthma disappearing, for example. I was very ill for a couple of years - anaemic, mostly - but then the problems I'd had 'before' just seemed to vanish, as well as any other medical problems. I don't get sick now. As to my skin, I don't burn any longer, which, considering how pale I am, is a little unusual. I ought to crisp like bacon in the sun, but it just doesn't happen. For which I'm also quite grateful. Also I don't scar. Even in the last few months - never mind before - things have happened to me, that you know of as well as I do, that ought to have left their marks, and there's no external sign of it. I have to assume that's also an element of the exposure."

"Are you sure that's all part of the radiation?" Jonathan asked, curious in his turn.

"I wasn't twenty feet from where Jeremy Creek was hung up when something hit in the field. It wasn't a fireball, of that I'm sure, but there was this big shock wave that just seemed to swallow me up. I got my dose all right."

"It's just that the, uh, mutations that have shown up around here all seem to be a lot more extreme than what happened to you. Apart from the improvement to your health, it seems mostly cosmetic."

Lex chuckled, but the sound had a dark edge to it. "I'm aware of that. I don't really like to think too much about what that says about my vanity."

Jonathan shot him a sharp look. "Come again?"

Lex looked at him, all humor gone from his face. "Mr. Kent?"

"What does vanity have to do with the meteor shower, or its effect on you?"

"Dad…" Clark said quietly.

"Are you really sure you want to discuss this, Mr. Kent?" Lex asked calmly, cutting him off.

"Why not?"

"Because any other time we've come anywhere near the topic of the meteor shower, you've given clear indications you're not comfortable with the subject."

"I'll tell you when I'm not comfortable, Lex. This is the first time I've heard anything like a theory being aired. Go on."

"Okay. Think about what we've seen happen here. Jeremy - Jeremy gets strung up in the field on the day of the shower, and it hits like a lightning strike. The effect on him is - what did you tell me, Clark? A severe electrolytic imbalance?" Clark nodded, and Lex went on. "He gets out of the hospital as a direct result of a real lightning strike, and how is it he takes his revenge? Lightning strikes. Greg Arkin is obsessed with insects, and he becomes one. Sean Kelvin seeks a little… heat, if you get my drift, and turns into the iceman who sucks heat from every living thing. What was her name again - Jody? The girl who feels she's overweight and diets obsessively? She gets her model figure, never mind the price she had to pay. Eric wants to be noticed by his dad, and turns into Superboy." He didn't miss the reaction from all three Kents, but filed it away for future reference. "Who've I left out? Oh, yes, Rickman, wanting to be the most popular guy around; Cassandra, whose third eye is opened as her two physical ones are closed; Henry, who wants only revenge for his lost youth, and regains that youth. There are other examples. Are you not seeing a pattern here, Mr. Kent? Because I am."

"You're suggesting the meteors grant people's deepest desires?"

"Something like that. You know the saying? Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it? That strikes me as very apposite for what's going on in Smallville. Most of us don't really understand what lies in the depths of our hearts and minds, and we'd probably run screaming from it if it was brought out in the light of day. The meteor mutations tap right into that subconscious stream of desire."

"That's a very disturbing train of thought, Lex."

Lex shrugged, then rubbed his hand over his eyes, suddenly looking wearied. "Sorry. I'm a scientist at heart, Mr. Kent; I like to understand how things work. It's nothing more than a wild theory on my part. The evidence is enthralling, but hardly conclusive, I know."

Clark reached out across the table to touch his wrist lightly. "You're tired, Lex; you should get some rest," he said gently.

Lex smiled a little - Martha's eyes widened at the tenderness she saw suddenly in his gaze as it rested on her son - and shook his head.  
"No, there's one more thing we need to talk about." He seemed to withdraw into himself, and all of a sudden, instead of the relaxed and charming young man they had had at their table all evening, there was Lex Luthor, cool, aloof, in control, hidden behind his careful mask.

"You've been very kind in not asking me about my plans, Mr. Kent, Mrs. Kent. I know Clark's told you some of what's going on, why I've left the castle. I think you've understood that… matters between my father and me have come to a head."

Jonathan nodded slightly. He was pleased that Lex had brought the topic up himself.

"Okay. I'm sure you can imagine that it's not going to be pretty. I don't expect, and I don't want you or anyone from Smallville to get involved in this, but knowing Dad, that may not be an option. I'm going to do my best to protect the town from him. I can't go into details and, frankly, the less you actually know, the better. However, I did something late on Friday that's probably going to enrage you." His gaze was very cool. "I bought your loan from the bank."

"What?" Jonathan was incensed, and half out of his seat. So was Clark, ready to step between his father and his friend, when Lex's voice rang out, cold and controlled.

"Sit down, Mr. Kent - you, too, Clark - and listen to me," he said commandingly.

Almost despite himself, Jonathan complied. The boy could really be compelling when he chose.

"This isn't like last time," he went on evenly. "I have no interest in how you run your farm, and this is not an investment on my part. It's a protective measure. In the morning, I'll have a document for you to read, and hopefully sign. It will stipulate that the loan has been transferred to me, that the bank has been repaid the exact sum outstanding as of your last payment. The loan stands, on the same terms. You will make your regular payments to me - but they'll go into an escrow account that you will open up shortly. I'm doing that because I don't know what may happen to my personal accounts in the next weeks and months, and I want it clear that your loan repayments have been made as per schedule. When the dust has settled from my fight with my father, you will approach the bank again and take out a loan to cover the remaining debt to me, and I will see to it that they offer you the identical terms to those you originally negotiated. The payments you will have made in the interim will devolve to me, and then everything will be back at status quo - you will have a loan with the bank, on the same terms you currently enjoy. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, but… I don't understand why," Jonathan said reluctantly.

"I'm not interested in becoming a partner in your farm, as I said. I guarantee - and I will guarantee in writing - that I will not interfere in your management of this property. I know my father, however. I have friends here in Smallville, and interests, and once war is declared - which it will be by the start of business tomorrow - he is going to look for every point of leverage he can get. In taking over your loan personally - please don't think it's a problem or a burden, I'm still a very rich man, with a personal fortune that owes nothing to my father or LuthorCorp - I cut off the prospect of him taking over your loan, and thereby possessing a means to exercise pressure on you. When you get the lawyers' draft tomorrow, you'll see that the terms and conditions remain rigorously identical. This is not charity, nor an attempt to take over your business, it's just - a shield."

"Why?" Jonathan demanded again, bluntly.

In return, he got Lex's chilliest, most penetrating look. "Do I really need to answer that?"

Clark reached out across the table and put one of his large, warm hands over Lex's pale, slender hands. "You know why, Dad," he said calmly. "He's doing it to protect us, like he's tried to do from the start."

"If the prospect of being beholden to me - even for a short space of time - is so abhorrent to you," Lex continued, still very calmly - and Martha noticed that he turned his hand over under Clark's to clasp fingers lightly, "then there may be another, similarly temporary solution. I'm expecting a friend to arrive tomorrow or the day after, one who's going to help me win this battle against my father. He's even richer than Dad, and has a much better reputation. If you want, I can sign the loan document over to him, under the same conditions. His name is Bruce Wayne."

Jonathan's eyes widened. "Wayne Enterprises is helping you in this affair?" he gasped.

"Yes."

"That's…."

"A very different proposition from anything to do with LuthorCorp, my father or me. I know. Nothing else will change - you'll still have to meet the terms of the loan, and all the rest of it. If I ask, I think Bruce would take it over, if that makes you feel any more comfortable."

Jonathan studied him for a moment. "I - I don't think that'll be necessary, Lex. I'll look at that draft agreement tomorrow, but it sounds - acceptable, for the time being."

Something very tightly wound in Lex seemed to relax. "Thank you, Mr. Kent." He suddenly seemed terribly young and alone to Martha, freeing his hand from Clark's light hold, and rubbing it over his face and head.

"I am tired now," he conceded simply. "Would you mind if I retired?"

"Of course not, Lex," she said. "I'm afraid you'll probably get disturbed very early, this is a working farm, after all. Please don't feel you have to get up at the same time as the boys. What would you like for breakfast?"

"Coffee," he half-smiled.

She gave him a reproachful look. "Lex!"

"Mrs. Kent?" he looked back innocently.

"I never send any of my boys out to work without a decent breakfast," she said sternly. "Now, come on."

He shook his head, with a smirk, rising from the table. "Coffee. Maybe some orange juice."

"Oh, very well," she agreed, mock-aggrieved.

"I'm going up, too," Clark said swiftly, and got up. "Night, Mom, Dad."

The two adults' eyes followed the two boys' progress up the stairs, and then met each other's gazes solemnly.

"That's not just friendship. That's…. They're…. Clark's…" Jonathan floundered painfully.

"In love with Lex," she completed what he couldn't say. "It's mutual, Jonathan."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," she said without hesitation. "If anything, I think Lex is the one who loves more deeply. He's older, he knows better, more. He'll do everything he said, but he'd also stake everything to protect Clark. This loan business…"

"Mmh. I think that's when I knew. Martha… it's so wrong…."

She was momentarily angry. "Jonathan Kent - I never took you for a bigot!"

"No, it's not that…." He colored suddenly under her piercing gaze. "Okay, maybe a bit of that. But…it's the age thing, and - and Clark - and the Luthors…."

"I think Lex already knows some things. Whether Clark's told him or he's just guessed, I don't know, but I'd bet anything you care to name that Lex is convinced that Clark's at least another Smallville mutant. Which he's not, but it's close enough. It has nothing to do with the way Lex feels about him. He's a very smart young man, Jonathan, yet he's let Clark lie to him for months, barely questioning at all, and Clark's not really the best liar in the world. If that isn't love, I don't know what is."

Jonathan ran his hand through his blond hair, wearily, and a little hopelessly. "It just seems…. Clark's so innocent."

"I wonder," Martha mused gently. "He's pretty much a normal adolescent, special powers aside. Don't you remember what that was like? Wondering about yourself, experimenting?"

"Yes, but - Lex?"

"Why not? They've had that connection ever since Clark rescued him, no matter how much you've wanted to ignore that. Weren't you hearing how they talk to each other, over dinner? They're very close, much closer than Clark is with Pete or Chloe."

"We're talking about a sexual relationship here, Martha!"

"It hasn't happened yet. I don't think it will, either, not before Clark's sixteen."

"Which is in two months, and it's still illegal in Kansas!"

"Then you're just going to have to let the boys take weekend trips out of state, or something like that. I don't imagine Lex hasn't considered the options. Jonathan, don't try to bolt the stable door now. Lex is in a fight for his whole future right now. He's not going to do anything that will jeopardize it, and that includes sexual relations with underage boys. I think he's managed to make Clark understand that, and accept it. If you try to make it impossible for them, though, they're going to end up forgetting about being sensible, and that will just cause all of us more problems."

Jonathan stared at her. "You're so - accepting!"

She looked at him gravely. "I've seen lives destroyed because of prejudice, Jonathan. Believe me, there are gay people in Smallville, but I'm sure they're too scared to live openly. I saw it in Metropolis. It takes guts to be openly gay - or bi, whatever - and some people just don't have it, couldn't live with it. I don't think these boys are that kind. Clark - Clark is honest almost to a fault; he will be what he needs to be, no matter the cost to him. As for Lex, he's very strong, and will also be what he wants to be, in the teeth of the fiercest opposition, if necessary. Against that kind of combined willpower, we'd be spitting into the wind. Besides, Clark is good for Lex."

"Is Lex good for Clark?" Jonathan groused.

"Yes. You know Clark can be naïve," she said firmly. "He trusts too easily, and with his secrets, that's dangerous. We can't control what he reveals to Lex, only pray that he makes the right choice. In either event, Lex will be able to teach him who he can and cannot trust."

"You sure they're not already…?"

"No, I'm not sure, but I don't think so. I'd like to think we know Clark well enough that we'd have… noticed the difference," she smiled.

He made a frustrated sound. "Oh, damn, it's bad enough with a girl, but this…"

"I don't deny I'd have preferred a - a simpler relationship for Clark, but, well, it's what he's chosen. He's a good boy. Trust him, and his instincts."

* * *

Upstairs, Clark had followed Lex into his room, and had begun unbuttoning Lex's shirt. Almost a week of next to no sleep was abruptly catching up with Lex, who really was muzzy and half-incoherent with fatigue, yet he knew that this wasn't quite right.

"Clark? Whatcha doin'?"

"Getting you undressed for bed," Clark smiled. He'd never seen this sleep-dazed aspect of Lex before. It was - cute, and Lex would kill him if he said as much.

Long-fingered hands closed over his. "I don't think that's a very good idea," came the suddenly crystal-clear comment.

Clark looked up. "I wasn't planning on getting into bed with you, Lex. Just getting you ready for bed."

"Mmh. Well, the effects are looking pretty much the same from here. Don't tell me your parents aren't downstairs right now discussing you and me, 'cause I think we've pretty well outed ourselves to them. I've only just registered that we were holding hands over the table. Not exactly discreet."

Clark cocked his head a little. "You're right, they are discussing us," he confirmed lightly, tuning out again.

Lex's eyes widened. "What?"

"Nothing important. Mom's pro, Dad's con - just the usual. She'll win, she always does."

Lex was diverted from the fact that Clark could hear a conversation downstairs by what he had revealed.

"Your mother approves of us?" Lex asked, astonished.

Clark pulled a slight face. "She seems to think it's more a case of locking the stable door after the horse has bolted. She's accepting."

"Clark, it's not too late for you to…"

Clark frowned furiously, and clasped Lex's face, mindful of his strength, however. "It's way too late! I love you, and we're going to be lovers. Not right now, I know, but soon, soon…"

Lex moaned a little. "Clark, I explained about the law…"

"That hasn't stopped you before."

"They didn't matter!" Lex shouted, and stopped dead, gasping with the strength of the passion that consumed him. He pushed Clark away, one palm against the broad chest, even as Clark made to embrace him reassuringly.

"I did that kind of thing mostly to piss Dad off," he said, looking away, his expression tense, eyes looking into nothing, "to get his attention, even if it was only for him to send his lawyers and his paid cops to tidy up after me. I didn't care when I was underage, and I certainly didn't care that any of my partners might have been. They were just pawns. I didn't give that," he snapped his fingers, his agitation increasing, "for most of them, and they didn't matter. You - you matter. God help me, you matter!"

This time he didn't resist as Clark held him tightly, cradling him even as he had a near panic-attack.

"I love you, Lex," he murmured ceaselessly into the nearest ear, and held him close until Lex had calmed down a little. Then he pulled back, not far, just so they could look into each other's faces, Lex's white and drawn.

"I love you," Clark reiterated simply.

"Oh, God," he moaned, and rested his forehead against Clark's. "I must be crazy!"

"Lex?" Clark smiled a little.

"Yes. God, yes, you bastard. I love you. I don't know what you've done to me," he cursed vividly, "I don't think I can fucking breathe without you!"

Clark hugged him a little tighter, smiling. "Good."

Lex let himself be held a moment longer, his composure slowly returning, then, at last, pushed Clark away firmly. "Out, farmboy!" he ordered. "I can only take so much of your teasing."

"It can stop being teasing any time you want, Lex," Clark said huskily, looking at the older boy through long, thick lashes. Lex stared at him.

"You know, that sweet, innocent, corn-fed, country boy routine you've got going is just such an act," he remarked tartly, opening the door, "and I'm having a problem believing I fell for it just like everyone else." He pushed Clark out unceremoniously. "Scram. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night, Lex," Clark grinned over his shoulder, even as the door closed in his face, and turned back - to come face to face with his parents. He colored hotly, but the smile wouldn't leave his face, and he ducked into his room quickly.

 

**End Chapter Three**


	4. The Oak and the Cypress (04/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 4 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 8195  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER FOUR**

 

Lex was indeed disturbed by the sounds of a waking household, but he rolled over and buried his head under the covers and went back to sleep. The next thing he knew was the rich scent of coffee being wafted under his nose.

"Le-ex," a cajoling voice sounded in his ear. "That scrambler thingy downstairs is blinking. I think you've got mail."

Lex surfaced reluctantly; he hadn't slept that well in quite some time and part of him was wishing it could go on. Another part was already reaching for the coffee. A hot mug was placed firmly in his hands, and the rest of his brain switched on sharply as the first swallow of the pungent liquid hit his throat. He let out a small sigh of satisfaction, which was met by a soft chuckle.

"You really are a caffeine junkie."

He focused blearily on the teenager sitting at the foot of his bed. "Just wait 'til you go to college, farmboy. You'll learn. What time is it?"

"About seven-fifteen."

"I thought you'd be out - milking cows, or whatever."

"I have been." Clark smiled. "Good morning to you, too, Lex."

"If you expect social niceties from me first thing in the morning, you've got to let me sleep a bit longer. That, or feed me more coffee."

"What is your normal schedule, anyway?"

"What normal schedule?" he answered wryly, grinning as Clark winced elaborately. "I'll try not to keep too anti-social hours while I'm here." He finished the mug and handed it back to Clark. "When's your school bus, anyway?"

"Five to eight. You can have first dibs on the shower," he smiled, standing. "Just don't try to skip breakfast, or Mom will get ya!"

Lex gave him the evil eye, which only made him laugh, and he left Lex to his own devices, taking the empty mug back down to the kitchen.

"Definite jump start with coffee," he smiled at his mother.

She shook her head. "He's as bad as Chloe. You might as well feed it to them intravenously."

"I told him he was a caffeine junkie. He said I should wait 'til I was in college, and then I'd see for myself," Clark chuckled.

"I still don't think it's good for either of them, at their age."

"Good luck trying to convince Lex of that," he grinned.

Less than ten minutes later, Lex appeared, cool and immaculate in charcoal slacks and a pale gray, fine wool shirt. Clark went for his shower, just touching Lex's hand in passing, fleetingly, as if by accident, but the smile in his eyes told Lex it was anything but.

"Good morning, Lex. Sleep well?"

"Good morning, Mrs. Kent. Very well, thank you. So much so that I appreciated the wake-up call. I think it was needed," he smiled a little.

"We weren't sure just how long to let you sleep," she smiled. "You seemed pretty tired last night. On the other hand, Gabe Sullivan's said he's seen you in the plant before seven-thirty some mornings, and we just didn't know how important that," she pointed to the blinking encryption unit, "might be."

"I'm not good at regular hours," he said diffidently. "It all tends to depend on when I actually get to sleep, and that can be anything between 10 p.m. and 4 a.m. When you have international business partners, working across time zones imposes its own demands."

She put a large glass of frothing orange juice in front of a place at the kitchen table and indicated he should sit.

"I suppose you're going to want a thermos of coffee to get you through the morning?" she asked wryly.

He grinned suddenly, looking much younger. "'Fraid so, Mrs. Kent. Um - where can I put up a temporary office where I won't get in your way?"

"I think you'll find the boys have been making some arrangements in Clark's loft; some extra power outlets, a telephone extension, a little extra lighting." She suppressed a smile at his faintly worried expression. "We haven't forgotten it's January. The space heaters are in as well."

"Space heaters?" He was startled. "Isn't that dangerous in a barn?"

"Well, a little common sense is necessary, but we work out there, too, in winter, you know. This is the season when all the major repairs get done, and I'm sure you've noticed that Jonathan keeps his workshop out there, too. So we're used to using space heaters. They're shielded, and all that sort of thing. Just try not to fall asleep while they're operating."

"You really don't mind me working in the loft?"

"Not at all. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it might be better if we didn't know too much about the details of what you're planning."

"I'm not planning anything illegal, you know."

"That's not what I meant. Just that what we don't know, we can't talk about."

He nodded, sipping quietly at the orange juice. She watched him for a moment, until he became conscious of her study again, and looked up at her questioningly, but calmly, not defensive.

"Lex, just how bad is this likely to get?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. In one sense, it just looks like another campaign in the ongoing war between Dad and me. I'm used to it. I'm aware, however, that to most other people, it looks - kind of inhuman. Then again, what I'm doing now was never in the game plan. I was supposed to take his place, not walk away from it all with just the bits that interest me. He will go ballistic." He smiled bleakly, his gaze focusing on some distant point. "He told me once, just after I moved here, that I had one chance to defy him. I think he thought I'd already taken that chance, but I hadn't, that was still just part of the game. This is where he finds out what defiance really means."

"Are you truly ready for it?"

He shook his head. "No, but it's probably better this way. I had one set of plans, but the time-scale was much longer, and - I think I'd have been someone different by then. More capable, maybe, but also more like my father. Suddenly that doesn't seem like a good thing to be."

"It's difficult to stop looking deliberately for something you've spent a long time wanting," she said gently.

He looked up at her, eyes shadowed. "His approval, you mean?" She nodded. "I guess," he agreed mutedly. "He arranged it that way, of course. That he was the only person I could seek approval from, I mean - and isn't that something we all want, at some point or other? Validation?"

"Yes, probably. It's a very unusual person who doesn't - either very strong, or very cruel."

"Are you wondering if Dad was like that?" he asked quickly. "I don't know. He's said some things about his childhood, but I have no idea how much of it's true or not. There was no one around I could check it with."

She sat down in the next chair, her expression solemn. "It's a terrible thing when a child can't trust his own parents."

"I trusted my mother. After that - trust is kind of a dirty word for Dad," he said, with a bitter twist to his mouth. "He really doesn't believe in it."

"What about you?"

"I was doing a good job of following his example. Until your son fished me out of a river."

Clark barreled down the stairs at that moment, shrugging into his jacket. "Gotta run," he called out, grabbing his pack, and stealing a roll from the table. "Love ya." And he was out the door. It hadn't been super-speed, or anything like, but the impression was still that a small whirlwind had gone by.

Martha noted with amusement that Lex was a little wide-eyed. She also noted that there was a touch of color in his cheeks. Clark's last comment was not an unusual one, but he usually tacked names onto it. "Love ya, Mom," or "Dad" - whichever happened to be in the vicinity. This morning, it had been meant for both her and Lex, and Lex obviously realized it.

"Is it always like that, in the morning?" the young man asked her, now looking a little more composed, and amused.

"On school mornings, yes, pretty much," she smiled, getting up and going back to coring her apples. "I believe Chloe and Pete have a running bet on whether he's going to make the bus or not."

Lex laughed softly, under his breath, but then made a faint, annoyed sound. "I meant to ask him something - it went out of my head last night."

"Can I help?" she asked.

"I don't know. I need to find somewhere to stay of my own. I'm very grateful for your hospitality, but we both know it can't last long. I was going to start looking around, but Clark said he had an idea. You wouldn't know what that was?"

Martha had a look of dawning understanding. "So that's why he was asking about the DeFries place," she remarked to herself, and then looked at Lex, nodding. "I think I know. Have you ever driven out past the end of the lane, onto Roseberry Drive, and then over the rise?"

"I think so, but if I did, I was probably going so fast I didn't see anything of my surroundings," Lex commented humorously.

She shot him a reproving look. "Maybe driving that truck for a few months will slow you down a little," she scolded mildly.

"I doubt it," he chuckled, then returned to the subject. "About Roseberry Drive, then?"

"Right. Just over the hill there's a farmhouse - not unlike this one, at least from the outside. The family was called DeFries, but the last one to live there, old William, wasn't much of a farmer. Bit by bit, he sold off all the lands - Jonathan's father bought one of the fields just before he died. By the time William died, all that was left was the house and the immediate acre or so of ground - enough for a decent yard and drive. The thing is, first of all, it took the lawyers years to find the heir. William had no children, and no brothers or sisters of his own, so the next in line turned out to be some distant second cousin or something like that, long-established in South Africa, who had no intention of returning here for a parcel of land that was basically just an old house. He agreed to sell the place, and that was about eight years ago. No one around here wanted somewhere without any acreage to it. It's my guess that's what Clark had in mind for you."

"It's a house like this one?"

"Something similar. Maybe a little bigger, an extra room, perhaps, on both levels, and there's a barn, too, but not the other sheds. Last time I looked, it seemed kind of ramshackle, but the roof's still on, and that's the main thing. Repairs are much easier if the roof has stayed on."

Lex nodded. "Isolated?"

"No more or less than any other farmhouse in the area. Talk to Jonathan at lunch, he could show you the local ordnance maps, show you where the original fields were, and how it fits in with the rest of us. The house is definitely a fixer-upper, though," she added warningly.

"Any place I bought would require a considerable amount of work to incorporate the security measures I'd want, not to mention the kind of upgrading any old house left untended needs," Lex said calmly. "That kind of thing can be easier when you've got to redo everything, anyway. Is it listed with the local realtor?"

"Probably, though I think Irvine's just about given up on it," she smiled a little wryly. "If you call about it, you'll probably make his day."

"It sounds like a good option for me; I'll certainly look it over." He stood, reaching for the mug he had drank from earlier, which was on the table. "Do you mind if I help myself to coffee?"

"Go right ahead." She gestured vaguely towards the coffee pot.

As he was filling his mug, something distracted him. "Something smells delicious," he commented curiously.

Too used to the aromas of her cooking, Martha only tended to notice cooking smells now if something was going wrong, and it took her a moment to work out what Lex was referring to.

"Oh - the quiches? It's an order for the Talon."

"I thought you only did pies for them?"

"I thought I'd branch out a little, and Nell was interested." She spied an opening, and took it. "See, George McMurdy's started producing these wonderful hams this season - the results of a new breeding program - and really, it's just too good to pass up." She pointed to a plate on the table with her coring knife, casually. "Try some, right there. Hand-carved, honey roast ham on the bone."

She watched from the corner of her eye as Lex sat back down at the table, and reached out to cut off a small piece of the ham to taste. Next thing, he was filling one of the fresh rolls with a good slice of the sweet, moist ham and consuming it with evident enjoyment. _'Hah, just coffee indeed'_ , she thought smugly. She'd just see about that, and casually went on talking about various other new developments in organic produce in the area.

She should have known better. Next time she looked round, Lex was watching her, with a definite smirk, and laughing eyes.

"This is your 'feed Lex' campaign, right?" he commented humorously.

She laughed. "Busted." Then she wagged a finger at him. "You can't deny you're enjoying it, though." She was referring both to the ham and the 'campaign'.

"True," he conceded, smiling. "It's probably just as well I'll be working in the barn. I have a problem resisting your apple pies when they're available at the Talon. I can't imagine what smelling them baking in the house would do to my resolve."

"Prepare to be tested," she chuckled. "Clark says you can smell the baking out there if the wind's to the south."

He just smiled, and shook his head. "Guess I'll have to take up jogging again to stay in shape."

She grew serious. "No offense, Lex, but how are you planning on, well, looking after yourself, in a place of your own?"

He still looked amused. "Contrary to whatever Clark may have told you, I do actually know how to take care of myself. I'll admit that I've had a very privileged lifestyle, but I did go to college, and lived pretty well on my own both on and off campus. I can do basic household chores - besides, I'm sure I can still hire some help locally - and I do know some elementary cooking."

"I'm relieved to hear that. If you ever want to expand your cooking repertory," she smiled, "just come and ask me."

"I'll probably do just that," he smiled, still relaxed. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent."

She paused in her movements. "I think you'd better call me Martha. Especially if you're thinking of being my son-in-law."

She could sense him freeze behind her, and there was a long silence. She turned around to look at him. He had colored again a little, but he met her scrutiny head-on, which she respected.

"I don't quite know what to say," he said eventually. "I'm pretty sure it's not what you intended for Clark…"

"No, I can't say that it is," she agreed, but quietly, without heat or reproach. "However, obviously, Clark has his own say in such matters, too. Just - at the risk of sounding very old-fashioned - what are your intentions regarding my son?"

His mouth quirked in a fleeting smile at her phrasing, but his response was completely serious. "As honorable as it's possible to be under the circumstances."

"Lex - it's never going to be legal here…"

"Um - actually, it is. Well, hopefully, during the next session of the state legislature, or I've spent the last three years campaigning in the background for nothing."

She was astonished. "You're joking."

He shook his head. "Not in the least." The sardonic smirk returned. "I've been working on getting the sodomy laws lifted for quite some time now, and all the indications are that it will pass some time at the beginning of next year. The only thing is they'll probably set the age of consent for gay relations at 21. I'll consider myself very lucky if it turns out to be 18."

"Good grief, Lex, you really don't do things by half-measures, do you?"

"I've always been taught to think big." He drank some coffee. "So - at some point, yes, a relationship between Clark and myself will be perfectly legal. I admit that the prospect of waiting five years seems - untenable. I don't think that Clark would be prepared to wait that long," he added gently.

"No, I don't suppose so, either," she acknowledged ruefully. "Just when did you…"

"Last week. New Year's Day, to be accurate."

"When he went to see you just after midnight?"

"That's right. Though we really talked about it only on Friday."

She blinked. "I gathered it was a new development, but - so recently?"

"All part of the general upheaval," he said, with a distinct tone of self-mockery.

"O-kay," she said slowly.

"You have my word that nothing - " He interrupted himself, with a wry twist to his lips. "Well, nothing serious…." He stopped again, with a sigh. "That's not right, either, because it already is serious. Okay - nothing more than what he's already experienced - which I can assure you isn't much - will occur between Clark and me before he's of age."

"What about afterwards?"

He gave her a measuring look. "You're not asking for details?"

"I'm asking for discretion," she returned steadily, though she colored a little.

"Despite my adolescent escapades, I actually prefer to keep my private life private, and that will include Clark, too," he said calmly. "I'm aware he's still in school, and that he has obligations there and here, to you. We'll sort things out so that everyone is satisfied. More or less," he corrected.  
He stood. "Could I trouble you for that thermos?" he asked politely, with an air of definitively changing the conversation.

She had to admire his poise. A class act, undoubtedly.

* * *

Lex was quiet at lunch, more than a little preoccupied, though, Martha guessed, also keeping a low profile in the face of a still very unsettled Jonathan. As she had suggested, however, he did bring up the subject of the DeFries farm, and she was pleased to see that Jonathan took this as the straightforward enquiry it was. They had a perfectly civil discussion about the house, the location, the kind of condition Lex might expect to find it in if he did choose to view it, and real estate prices in the neighborhood. In a curious way, Jonathan seemed to be faintly relieved to realize that Lex, although still rich as Croesus by their standards, actually had some kind of appreciation of the value of money that wasn't so different from their own.

Finally, though, Lex produced the draft document they had discussed the previous night, and kept silent while Jonathan went over it.

"I still don't quite understand why you don't want to receive the installments directly," Jonathan said, after a while.

"I think it entirely likely that at some stage in the game, my father's going to attempt to freeze my assets," Lex said matter-of-factly, "which is going to cause havoc for a short while. At least that way," he indicated the paper, "you know - we both know - exactly where your money's going, and there's a clear record of transactions. It's not going to get swallowed up in the morass of my financial affairs. I just considered it a reasonable way of maintaining transparency."

"Fair enough. I would have liked to have given this to my own lawyer, but I get the impression you feel there's some urgency behind it."

Lex hesitated. "Yes and no. I mean, I know what my intentions are. That piece of paper is so that you can be sure of them as well. A lot will depend on how quickly my father's going to try to lash out at those who are helping me, and he will consider that you're helping me, even just by putting a roof over my head for a short while. It could be days, it could be months. I thought you'd probably feel happier about the whole transaction if it was formalized as quickly as possible."

Jonathan absorbed that in silence, and instead looked at the last page and the lawyers' address. "You went some way to get this drawn up."

"Gotham City?" Lex smiled crookedly. "Right now, it's about the only place on earth where I can be reasonably certain that absolutely everything I do won't get reported back to Dad instantly."

The older man nodded, and folded up the draft. "You can get this drawn up formally whenever you like, Lex, it looks okay to me."

Lex murmured his thanks quietly, and Martha saw some tension leave his slim frame.

He disappeared again pretty quickly after lunch, and Jonathan was out making deliveries when a dark blue, new-model Cadillac Escalade pulled up in front of the house. She didn't recognize the man who got out; he was very big, easily as big as Clark, and much more powerfully built. He was still quite young, and rather astoundingly handsome, with thick, dark hair and deep blue eyes. She emerged onto the porch, a little warily, as he walked up the drive.

"Mrs. Kent?" he called from a few feet away.

"Yes?"

"My name's Bruce Wayne. I understand Lex Luthor's staying with you at the moment?"

She relaxed, and smiled a little, nodding. "He's in the loft, around the back. He said you might come by. Do you have somewhere to stay? We can put you up here, too, if you like."

He looked a little surprised, then smiled, and his slightly stern good looks softened with considerable charm. "That's very kind of you, Mrs. Kent, but, no, thank you, I'm organized."

"Well, you'll stay for dinner, then?"

There was a small chuckle from behind them. "You'd better agree to that, Bruce. I doubt you'll get away with anything else. Martha's already decided I need fattening up, and she's not taking no for an answer. This is a very devious lady."

Wayne surveyed him thoughtfully from head to foot, and Lex scowled at him.

"Don't you start, Wayne. Come on, say yes like the polite boy you were brought up to be, and let's get to work."

Wayne bit back a smile, and he looked at Martha again. "I'd be delighted, Mrs. Kent, thank you."

She smiled. "Do we need double rations of coffee?" she asked Lex.

"No. Bruce is a closet Boy Scout. No vices, not even the day-to-day ones," Lex said tartly. "It can be very trying, sometimes."

Martha frowned a little. "I thought…." She stopped herself suddenly, blushing. Telling a guest to his face that he had quite a reputation as a playboy was hardly the polite thing to do. Lex, however, as usual, seemed to have read her mind, and was snickering.

"Welcome to our world of make-believe, Martha. Take nothing at face value, especially not what appears in the press." Lex gave his slanted smile. "You've got papers for me, Bruce?"

The two men vanished around the side of the building, and Martha returned to her occupations, and it was only about thirty minutes later that it hit her that she was going to have two multi-millionaires to dinner that night. She gulped lemonade straight from the bottle to calm herself, and then thanked her guardian angel that her boys hadn't seen her. She'd never have heard the end of it.

* * *

Clark arrived home at the usual time, and darted off to his loft to see Lex, but returned within ten minutes, laughing to himself. When Martha asked, he shook his head.

"It's like a foreign language that just sounds like English," he grinned. "I don't think I got one word in ten. It all sounds really complicated, anyway."

He went off to do his share of the chores, then his homework, and helped his mother get dinner ready, and generally acted so normal she could have hugged him, even knowing that he'd taken a step towards a future that would, inevitably, take him away from her.

A little before seven, Clark went back to the loft to get the two tycoons, to give them a chance to relax and freshen up before dinner. He hung back in the shadows for a few minutes, listening again to them discuss options in that complex jargon of theirs, then came forward quietly. Wayne noticed him immediately, but merely raised an eyebrow when Clark held a finger to his lips for silence. Lex was too absorbed in something he was studying on his laptop, and started when Clark put big hands on his shoulders and started massaging gently. He relaxed pleasurably when strong thumbs worked along his cervical spine - Clark had seemed to know instinctively where the tension was greatest.

"It's dinner-time," he said mildly.

"Just a minute," Lex said absently, his mind still focused on work, even while appreciating the massage.

Clark grinned to himself. "You know? Food? Supposed to keep body and soul together?"

"Sure."

Wayne watched interestedly, wondering just how Clark was going to induce his extremely concentrated friend to quit his work for the moment.

"Lex…"

"Mm-hm?"

"Lex," Clark said, very sweetly, "if you don't shut that down this minute, I'm carrying you out of here."

Lex looked up sharply. "You wouldn't dare."

He smiled broadly. "You want to try me?"

Lex shot him a glowering look, and hit Save. Clark's smile widened, impossibly, and he positively bounced back down the stairs, whistling lightly.

Wayne, already putting papers away, looked at Lex in amusement.

"Interesting technique your young friend has to get your attention," he commented blandly.

"Shut up, Bruce," Lex scowled, embarrassed.

Back in the house, Wayne was introduced to Jonathan, who was openly approving of WayneTech and Wayne Enterprises. Bruce was diffident about his own part in their running, assigning the credit to Lucius Fox, but seemed willing to talk about how his own father's principles and goals had affected both himself and the management of his companies, even though Thomas Wayne, as a busy doctor, had not really run Wayne Enterprises himself, either.

None of them, waiting for Martha to call them in to dinner, really thought anything of it when Lex's cell phone rang, and he flipped it open to answer it, not even checking the Caller ID.

"Lex - "

… and froze. And then disconnected, suddenly ashen-faced.

The phone began ringing again immediately. Lex stood, already visibly somewhere else.

"Excuse me," he said, in a vague tone, and walked out the back door.

Clark stared after him, and made to follow, but a strong hand clamped around his wrist.

"No." Wayne weathered his fierce glare calmly. "I'm not saying you shouldn't go to him, but not yet. That's a call he's not going to want anybody to hear, not even you."

The boy's irritation melted instantly. "His father?" he asked unhappily.

Wayne nodded. "It was bound to come. I'm a little surprised it took this long. He's probably been out of touch for a few hours."

At that moment, Martha came in, about to invite them to come to table, and immediately picked up on the strained atmosphere, and on the missing party.

"Where's Lex?"

"We think he's taking a call from his father," Jonathan said quietly.

Her eyes widened. "Oh, my God - is he going to be okay?"

"No," Clark said, standing up. "Can you hold dinner a bit, Mom? If we're not back in half an hour, just start without us, okay?"

This time, Wayne made no opposition to his going, and Clark appreciated his finesse. For the time being, he went no further than the rear porch, guessing - accurately, as his vision confirmed - that Lex would have headed back up to the loft. He stood and waited, looking from time to time to see if Lex was still on the phone, but carefully not listening, until his vision revealed that the cell phone had been put away and Lex was standing at the window, leaning against the frame, staring out into the night sky. Then Clark quietly made his way across the yard and into the barn. Lex could have seen him coming, but Clark suspected that Lex wasn't in any condition to see anything at all right then.

He deliberately made noise coming up the stairs, not wanting to startle Lex. Standing at the half-gate opening of the loft, he looked unbearably fragile, still and pale, like a fine, life-size, wax model, barely breathing, clear eyes blinking only intermittently, rarely. Clark came right up behind him, until he was deep into Lex's personal space, close enough that Lex would feel his breath against the sensitive skin of his bare skull, feel the heat of his body, but still not touching, quite.

"Lex?" he said softly.

"I'm here." His voice was distant, almost otherworldly and emotionless.

"I can see that. Was it your dad?"

"Yes. Nice deduction, Kent." The note of irony was not unkind.

"I can't claim the credit. Bruce seemed to just - know, right away."

"Ah. Yes, he would."

"And…?" Clark prompted gently.

"About what you'd expect."

Now Clark touched him, putting up a hand to caress the smooth curve of his head. When he had touched Lex's head with a lover's touch for the first time, he had become instantly addicted to the silken feel of it.

"Lex."

Lex turned his head towards him, a little stiffly. "I see you and your parents, how much they love you, how unconditionally. I see others, with their parents. Conflicts, yes, but they can still count on that love. Even orphans - like Lana, or Bruce - they seem to just know they could have had that same love had their parents lived. Where did I go wrong, Clark?"

That was enough. Clark moved in those last few inches, slid his arms around Lex's waist and held him close. "You didn't, Lex. You really didn't. It's not you, it's him. It's totally him. If it didn't mean you wouldn't even exist, and I couldn't bear that thought, I'd say there are some people who just aren't fit to be parents, and he's one of them. But there's you, and you're wonderful, Lex. You're smart and you're beautiful and you - you're just amazing…"

"It's not enough for my father."

Clark shook him a tiny amount. "Then that's his loss. Lex - he's wrong! It's not because he's just too fucking stupid to realize how absolutely fucking incredible you are that you have to accept it. All that shows is that he's just a stupid fucking shit…"

Lex had turned to him fully, with wide eyes. "Clark Kent - are you swearing?"

Clark grinned, and then sniggered. "Yep. See - he's so stupid he's even driven me to that, and don't ever tell my folks, or I'll get such a lecture!"

Then they were both laughing, but Lex's laughter turned shockingly to tears, and Clark tightened his arms around his friend and drew him in closely. For a moment, Lex almost fought him, then collapsed against him, crying in silence, long fingers clenching in Clark's flannel shirt. Clark held him, one hand caressing the bald head, whispering words of love and devotion into one ear, tears coming to his own eyes, too.

Lex hated losing control, he knew that very well, and there had been too many occasions over the last months when, attacked by forces beyond anyone's understanding, precisely that had happened. This was a sore test of Lex's confidence, but Clark was not going to let it come between them, or let Lex lose faith in himself at this most crucial of junctures. Even that determination, however, couldn't stop him from shedding tears at Lex's pain, at the terrible thought of a parent who simply didn't love his child with all his heart and soul. That was something of which Clark could barely conceive, and he knew it was because he, and just about everyone else he knew other than Lex, enjoyed that love to the point that sometimes they just took it for granted.

He hadn't taken into account that even though Lex had his face buried against Clark's throat, he would feel Clark's tears against his skin, where with another, they would have been lost in hair.

"You're crying, too," Lex whispered against his throat.

"I love you," Clark said simply. "What hurts you hurts me."

"Why?"

"I told you," Clark smiled through his own tears.

"No, I mean - why do you love me? If my own father can't…"

Clark hugged him so tightly, Lex made a faint sound of protest as the air was squeezed out of his lungs.

"Stupid question!" he said fiercely. "I know what I've got here. Your father's a dickhead!"

Lex laughed again, laughter cut with tears, somewhere in between the two, happy and miserable at the same time. "I'm no good for you, Clark."

"You're the only one for me. I just - couldn't make do with anyone else." He nuzzled passionately against Lex's bare skin. "No one else. No one has ever made me feel the way you do. Not anything."

"You could do so much better for yourself," Lex whispered.

"Tell me how?" Clark challenged.

"Somebody your own age. A girl. Somebody clean."

"I don't want that, and I don't feel wanted by that. I'm a klutz around girls, and I don't know how to talk to them. I feel like an idiot, and they pretty well treat me that way. You're the only one who's ever treated me like an adult, who talks to me like I understand, or could if I thought about it a little. As for 'clean'…." He touched his lips to Lex's bare scalp. "Only people with secrets really understand each other, right?" he said, very softly.

"Is that why you love me? Because of the secrets?"

"Maybe it's part of it, but it's because they don't matter. They don't matter enough to make any difference to us. You could have pushed a lot harder. So could I. We wouldn't be friends, if either of us had - so we didn't. Simple as that. We both chose friendship - love - over the secrets. The secrets will just - fall into place when the time's right. You already know part of it."

"As you already know part of mine," Lex conceded, his voice still rough with tears.

Suddenly he turned his face up, seeking, needy, and Clark answered without hesitation, so that they kissed long and deeply. Clark felt Lex relax in his embrace, the pain and doubt leaving him little by little. He tucked Lex's head back under his chin.

"You're not going to hate me for this?" he asked softly.

"For what?" Lex asked, voice muffled against Clark's collarbone.

"For seeing you like this? You're such a control freak," he chided tenderly. "Tomorrow you're going to be pissed that you, um…"

"Broke down?" Lex asked wryly, raising his head.

"Well… yeah. In company, at least."

Lex looked at him steadily for a long moment. "You're not company," he said eventually, "you're an integral part of me. I can't regret sharing what's already yours."

Clark glowed with happiness at that statement. "Lex!"

He would have leaned in for another kiss, but Lex, with a little smile, tilted his head back further, out of reach, and brought a hand up to cover Clark's mouth briefly. "I promised your mother that we wouldn't stray, not while you're still a minor. We're getting a little close to that now."

Clark quirked a smile back at him. "I thought I was just offering comfort."

"We just passed the comfort stage, as you well know," Lex said dryly.

Clark still darted in for a swift kiss before loosening the circle of his arms - though not releasing Lex completely. He was looking better, his composure restored, his color nearly back to normal, though his eyes were still a little pink. Clark stroked his cheek lightly.

"Come on, we can go in the front. That way you can get to the downstairs bathroom without being seen, freshen up a little," he said, his tone deep with affection.

A little to his surprise, Lex just smiled, and laid his head back down against Clark's chest, almost snuggling in. "I feel like I could stay just like this forever," he said softly.

Clark touched his lips to Lex's temple softly, relishing the feel of the warm, silken skin against his lips. "Me, too, Lex. Just hold you like this, shut out the world, forever."

They clung together, in complete harmony - until the inelegant sound of Clark's stomach requesting food made Lex laugh suddenly, if a little shakily.

"Okay, I can take a hint. Are you ever not hungry?" he sniggered, then his eyes widened. "Oh, God - how long have I been out here? Your mother's dinner…!"

Clark grinned. Lex in a panic was a rare sight. He checked his watch. "Relax, it hasn't been that long. Forty minutes, and I told her to go ahead if we weren't back in half an hour from when I came out here. If you think my mom's letting you go to bed without a full meal, you're seriously underestimating her."

"Oh, I know. Did she tell you she already got me at breakfast?" Lex asked wryly.

"No! Damn, Lex, I thought you had more grit than that," Clark teased.

"So did I."

So the boys - Martha had begun to include Lex in that category, as much because of his age as anything else - were smiling when they returned to the table, and if Lex was still a little pale, and his eyes faintly reddened, no one was going to comment on that.

"I'm sorry about that, Martha," Lex apologized with his usual charm, taking the seat directly opposite Bruce. Clark slid in alongside him.

"That's quite all right, Lex. I just took up the soup plates, actually - there's still time, if you'd like some?"

"No, thank you, I'm fine with whatever you've got planned next." As at breakfast, he took an appreciative sniff. "Roast chicken, right?"

She smiled, and went to set up her main course. Wayne studied the younger man carefully for a moment.

"Well?" he asked calmly.

Lex sighed, and ran a hand over his skull. "About what you'd expect." He repeated the phrase he'd used to answer the same query from Clark, but added wryly, "Nothing that can be repeated in polite company. He's still playing games - war games, but games nonetheless. Though I think he's not aware of your place in all this yet, which seems a little odd," he commented questioningly.

Wayne smiled cynically. "Not to me. Your father has some major blind spots. He'll never believe that you and I could have any common ground, given the history between our families. Of course, it helps that you never let him know that we weren't exactly enemies, either."

Lex smiled faintly and lazily. "He didn't need to know that."

"If you don't mind my asking," Jonathan asked diffidently, "just how is it that you are working together? I always understood that LuthorCorp and Wayne Enterprises were, well, deadly rivals."

"Actually, in business terms, we're barely rivals at all. We operate in very different domains. What set our parents at loggerheads were our business practices," Wayne said calmly. "My father disliked Lennox Luthor, and despised Lionel, and wasn't exactly reticent in letting them know it. On the whole, I share his opinion of them, but Lex - well, Lex is only just beginning to come into his own, and I believe in judging each case on its merits."

Lex smiled crookedly, and remarked, with a faintly malicious note, "I suspect Bruce has been keeping an eye on me for a few years now, so as to see, well, just how far from the tree this apple was going to fall." The malice disappeared, to be replaced with wry humor as he addressed Wayne directly. "What gets me, you know, is that you realized what I failed to - that I hadn't actually hit ground yet!"

"That shouldn't annoy you, Lex. It's not as if I'm the only one. You're sitting beside someone who obviously realized the exact same thing, and on much shorter acquaintance at that."

Lex slanted a glance at Clark and the corners of his mouth lifted in a half-wry, half-tender smile.

"That's different. Clark acted out of innocence, and out of optimism. You're no more innocent or optimistic than I am, Bruce." His smile widened a little, warming. "Though I dare say you're pretty well matched with Clark in the altruism stakes, something that's never been my forte."

"This loan arrangement with me," Jonathan put in, "that's not altruistic?"

"Not in the least," Lex said coolly. "I have sound tactical reasons for wanting to shelter you and the other residents of Smallville."

"You're not making a profit."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "That's something of an assumption you're making. I'm certainly not making a loss, I can assure you."

Jonathan studied him through narrowed eyes briefly, then, unexpectedly, relaxed. "Okay. I think I'd be seriously worried if you were."

Lex laughed, and Martha returned with her roast chicken, and dinner became almost startlingly normal; just friends debating common interests, current affairs and the like. Clark felt adult for one of the first times he could remember, because both Lex and Bruce treated him as such, listening to his expressed opinion, agreeing or disagreeing with reasoned arguments. Instinctively, he watched Lex for signals, and there were times when, with the faintest of gestures, or just an invisible brush to his knee, beneath the table, Lex would indicate that he needed to pay closer attention, but he never shut Clark up or contradicted him flatly. Clark began to grasp the importance of hearing all that was being said, of taking in more than just words, but nuances of tone and physical expression, something for which he had had little patience before.

Of course, it was difficult to avoid protesting when his mother got onto the childhood anecdotes. He realized, after about ten minutes of squirming embarrassment, that she was treating Lex like a potential in-law, a real, serious, probably long-term date, someone she completely expected to be seeing a good deal of in the future. That, after a moment, compensated a good deal for the baby stories, Clark thought.

What was interesting, though, was that Bruce seemed to sit astride the fence, where his responses were concerned. Sometimes he reacted like Lex, entertained by the anecdotes and discovering with amusement and liking the details about this new, if very young, friend he had made. Sometimes, though, he seemed to be reacting more like the Kents, listening with a kind of knowledgeable indulgence that hinted at practical experience. Martha picked up on that aspect, too, and was curious.

"Bruce, forgive me," she blushed a little, "but sometimes you talk as if you have one of your own. A teenage son, I mean."

"I do," he returned, surprised.

Her eyes widened hugely. "But… you're too young!"

He gave her a puzzled look. "It's hardly a secret, Mrs. Kent."

Lex was trying to suppress a laugh, not entirely successfully, and when Bruce looked at him questioningly, he gave in.

"Welcome to Kansas, Bruce. The state's already got its own billionaire playboys. You don't make headline news here anything like as frequently as you're used to. Even at the time, the Kansas media wasn't as interested as the Gotham media was, and since the kid's hardly lived up to his exhibitionistic background…" He smirked.

"Shut up, Lex," Bruce mock-scowled. He turned back to Martha. "It's a matter of public record, Mrs. Kent. Eight years ago, I became the legal guardian of an orphaned boy. He's been with me ever since. He's Clark's age, give or take a couple of months."

"How old were you, for goodness' sake?" Martha asked, astonished.

"Twenty. Barely." He looked a little abashed. "I know, far too young to take on that kind of responsibility. I guess you could say it's the one time I've really used my money and name to gain an advantage. You see, I was there when the boy's parents were killed, right in front of both our eyes. First of all, he was a material witness - it was murder, not an accident - and he needed some serious protection, which the P.D. wasn't in any position to guarantee. Secondly, Child Services wouldn't let him stay with the circus, anyway, which was the only other family he had. He reminded me so much of myself, I suppose." He smiled a little. "It's worked out pretty well, mostly. I don't really think of him as a son, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't think of me as a father, but we get along. The last couple of years have been - trying," he admitted. "He's growing up, of course. Things change so quickly. I really don't think I was conscious of that in myself."

"You were born adult, Bruce," Lex remarked quietly. "At least, as long as I've known you." Then he smiled. "From what little I've seen of Dick, you've done well by him; he's a good kid. Makes the worst jokes I've ever heard," he added reflectively, rolling his eyes, "but a nice boy."

"You can't blame me for that," Bruce said, so earnestly it was clearly a joke. "I've been assured often enough that I have no sense of humor at all."

"Not much of one, anyway," Lex agreed dryly. "You improved noticeably after you took Dick in, but it's still - rudimentary."

"If I'm back here during vacation time," Bruce said to Clark, ignoring Lex's comment, "I'll see if Dick wants to come along. I think you'd get along, once you get over the culture shock."

"Culture shock?" Clark asked, startled.

Bruce smiled faintly. "Probably. You might seem a little strange to each other at first. He's part city-boy, part true gypsy. A lot more street-wise than you could ever be, if you'll forgive me for saying so, and pretty outspoken. I think he'd find this kind of, well, bucolic existence a little bizarre."

Clark quirked a smile back. "Oh, we do bizarre pretty well around here."

"So Lex keeps hinting, but he's either being coy about it…"

"I'm never coy!"

"Or we just haven't had the time to talk about it. What's so very peculiar about Smallville, then?"

Tales of meteor weirdness filled the rest of the evening, until Lex indicated he was going back to work.

"Lex! It's past ten! You must be joking," Martha protested.

"Japan's just waking up," he half-smiled. "Early worm, and all that. Don't concern yourselves with us, I won't disturb you when I do get to bed."

It was all he could do not to kiss Clark goodnight, however lightly, on his way out.

"You've got it bad for that boy," Bruce remarked as they crossed the yard.

"Am I that obvious?"

"For you, yes. You're not exactly hiding it. Not on these premises, at any rate."

"No, I suppose not. He wouldn't understand if I did, not here."

"Still - I know you're a good enough actor to hide it in public, but you're going to have to talk to him, Lex. He's very obviously devoted to you, but he shouldn't allow it to show so much. Certainly not in front of a total stranger like myself."

"You're not a total stranger, Bruce," Lex pointed out mildly. "He was there on Friday, when I called you. He knows how much I'm relying on you just now, and if you're my ally, you're his, too." He frowned a little. "I didn't get the impression you disliked him."

"I don't dislike him, not at all. You told me on Friday you trusted him with your soul. I'm beginning to see why. Certainly there was a time, not so long ago, when I'm not sure you believed you even had a soul. If he's the reason for the change, I'm glad of it, and I don't think you've chosen foolishly for yourself. Still, you're just adding to your current problems. Even once he turns sixteen, he's still not legal, Lex, not here. If Lionel gets any hint of this, Clark could also spell your ruin."

Lex sighed. "I'm not giving him up, Bruce. I'm acutely aware of the problems, and so is Clark. You're just going to have to trust us."

 

**End Chapter Four**


	5. The Oak and the Cypress (05/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 5 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 4324  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER FIVE**

 

February, 2002

 

"Lex!" The protest was passionate, and hurting.

Lex sighed. _"Clark, don't do this to me, please? I didn't say I wouldn't come to your birthday party, just not for long. Do you have you any idea what it'd be like for me? I'm an outsider there, anyway, at least as far as your other friends know, and I'm going to have a hard enough time trying not to just wade in and stake my claim. Keeping my hands off you in public now that I can actually put them on you?"_

Clark made a frustrated noise. "Oh, Lex - when can we, you know…?"

There was a low, throaty laugh from the other end of the line. _"Soon. Trust me, I'm as impatient as you are. I'll be by early."_

"Don't bring anything - the only thing I want from you on this birthday is you," Clark said emphatically, then added, "and Dad's still got… issues."

He laughed again. _"Farmboy, if you think I'm turning up empty-handed at your sixteenth, you can think again. Don't worry; it'll be something… discreet; not too ostentatious, that you can show your friends without concern. You can pass this on to your father, if he's still giving you grief; it would look a lot stranger for me to turn up without a gift, than with one. Everyone knows we're friends."_

Clark laughed. "You're such a strategist, Lex."

_"You'd better believe it! I'll see you on Tuesday."_

* * *

Tuesday arrived, and with it Clark's sixteenth birthday. When Lex strolled in, relaxed and unusually casual, it was all Clark could do not to rush over and just pounce on him enthusiastically. He suppressed a snigger at a silly mental image of himself leaping on Lex like an eager puppy. Lex would be quite literally bowled over. It was true that Clark sort of wanted to lick him all over; he looked so good. He was actually wearing jeans - probably designer jeans, worth every other pair in the room put together, but still jeans - and a thin, ribbed, navy sweater that molded his torso closely and gave his skin a faintly pearly cast. In fact, Lex never looked casual, exactly, just supremely comfortable in his own skin, in a way that most of the adolescents Clark knew could never match.

Clark clamped down firmly on his hungry thoughts, got a grip on himself, and went to greet the latest arrival at his party.

"Hey, Lex, glad you could make it."

"What, you think I'd miss the social event of the Smallville calendar?" Lex teased him openly, and handed him a small packet.

"Very funny, Lex," Clark ginned, "and thank you."

The packet was a fairly familiar shape - a CD, or maybe a computer game, though neither Lex nor Clark went in for that kind of thing much. Much more likely a CD, and that was what Chloe assumed when she popped up at Clark's elbow.

"Well, well, I didn't know the local billionaire had it in him," she remarked tartly.

"Had what in me?" Lex asked dryly, unfazed by her taunting - and thankfully distracting her from Clark's sudden furious blush.

Clark concentrated on opening the present. He genuinely didn't know what Lex might have brought.

"The ability to bring an ordinary present, like a CD."

Lex smirked. "Ms. Sullivan," he said, in a tone that he knew perfectly well set Chloe's teeth on edge, "I never do ordinary. Not even when it looks like it."

"I guess you don't," Clark exclaimed. "Chloe, look!"

It was indeed a CD - a Japanese pressing of a rare live concert of one of Clark's favorite bands, unobtainable in US shops, and hard to find and expensive over the Net.

As Chloe, and several others, were exclaiming over it, Lex drew back a little, and suddenly felt a faint tingle up his spine that made him look around. Jonathan was looking stony-faced. Lex took another step or two back, to stand alongside him.

"It's just a CD," he remarked softly. "I asked a business acquaintance to pick it up in Japan." He turned his head to look at the older man steadily.

"You know it's just for show, anyway. Clark and I have something else planned, as soon as it can be arranged."

"Too much information, Lex," he said tightly.

Lex's eyes fluttered shut briefly as he sighed. "You're right, that was uncalled for. I apologize. However," he went on steadily, "you've got to get over this. I don't want to come between you, but - well, we're committed now. You're only damaging your own cause."

There was a pause. "He's still my boy, Lex. That's something you couldn't possibly understand, you're too young yourself."

"If I thought that he'd truly be better off without me, then I'd remove myself. I didn't choose how this friendship started, though, and I'm not prepared to give up on it now. I've got a lot more to lose here than he does, though I know you don't believe that."

The resentment suddenly seemed to drain from Jonathan, leaving him a little helpless. "I guess I have to. Martha does, and she's rarely wrong. But so help me God, Lex, you hurt him…"

"It's the last thing on my mind."

Jonathan looked at him directly. "What about the first thing?"

"I'm still working on it. It's vacation time very soon. Please allow Clark to go."

"Do I have a choice? His allegiance is transferring as it is."

Lex looked at him sharply. "If you think that, you're crazy," he said, in a low, hard tone. "I don't ever want to find myself in a place where he has to choose between me and you, because I think we'd both lose. Unless," he added warningly, "you're the one that keeps pushing."

Jonathan didn't like that at all, Lex could see from the tightening of his lips. Before he could say anything, though, Clark was there, smiling, but with a cautionary look in his eyes.

"Dad? Party, remember?" he said lightly, and looped his arm through Lex's to draw him discreetly away and outside for a few minutes.

Jonathan watched them go, wondering when the world had slid sideways, and out of control.

On the rear porch, alone with Clark for a moment, Lex set his back to the house wall and sighed faintly.

"You've got to stop fighting with my dad, Lex," Clark said softly.

Lex put his head back against the wall and closed his eyes briefly. "I'm trying, Clark, I really am. It's not all me, you know. I'm getting pretty tired of having the door slammed in my face repeatedly."

"I know you're trying, Lex, but so is he. It's not easy for him, though, and sometimes you make it harder by trying to get under his skin. I know it's defensive on your part, but he doesn't know you well enough to see that."

Clark's hand ghosted briefly over Lex's bare head, and Lex opened his eyes with a faint smile at the tender, tentative caress.

"Don't worry, I'm not about to give up on you," he said in a low, gentle voice.

Clark smiled softly. "I know. I love you."

The simple sweetness of that took Lex's breath away, and all he could do was stare at the boy in something very close to awe. Clark just looked back, not moving any closer, though his eyes conveyed the yearning to do so, and after a moment, Lex looked down, color staining his pale cheeks.

"I'd better go."

"So soon?" Clark asked sadly.

"Yes." He smiled crookedly. "You think I'm going to be able to hide what I feel for you from everyone else? After that? My self-control's not that good."

"Your self-control's perfect, Lex, but if you really want to go…"

"Don't be stupid!" Lex snapped, scowling. "No, I don't want to go. If I could chain you to my side, I would. I can't, for a thousand different reasons, only about two of which are any good…."

"Which ones?" Clark asked serenely. It was enough to defuse Lex's sudden flare of temper, and he gave a whuff of laughter.

"Trust you to ask. You don't know? One, you'd hate it. Oh," he kept going when Clark would have protested, "maybe not short term, but long term, certainly. You know I have the instinct to cage things I want to keep safe, and I know you won't stand for that. Two - it's going to be at least two years, and possibly five before it's even remotely legal. We're going to have to get used to not seeing a whole lot of each other, Clark, if we're to avoid problems."

Clark's head drooped. "Five years!" He shifted position to lean against the wall shoulder to shoulder with Lex. Any observer would have just seen two boys stargazing a little. "What about - you know - just now?"

"Ah." Lex smiled a little mysteriously. "Keep an eye on the mail. You should be getting a card from Gotham City any day now."

"From Gotham? You didn't tell Bruce…?"

Lex laughed huskily. "What, that I wanted to get you out of state somewhere and fuck you senseless?"

Clark blushed furiously. "Lex!"

"I hardly needed to, he's perfectly well aware of the state of affairs between us. I did tell him I needed a good excuse to get us both out of Kansas during the Spring break. Then we can disappear for a week, go someplace private. He's holding a party in a couple of weeks' time - you'll understand when you get the invitation. Now," he sighed, "I think you should walk me to the truck before I do something very stupid and try to ravish you right here and now."

Clark was still blushing, but grinned. "Okay."

So he did, in companionable silence, but leaned in the window of the truck when Lex was in the driver's seat.

"Lex," he said softly, "we're out of sight of most of the house, and there's no one outside right now."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Completely."

Lex smiled crookedly, and tilted his head to give Clark what he was so clearly asking for. Kisses had been sparse between them over the last weeks, because they fuelled so much more, but this one was long, deep and lingering, and even when their lips parted, they stayed like that, faces pressed together, for several seconds, as if drawing strength from each other. Eventually, Lex drew back a little, and kissed Clark's forehead gently.

"Happy birthday, Clark" he whispered.

Clark's eyes shone in the dark. Lex thought he had never seen him look so beautiful, and reached back out for another kiss, swift and hard this time, before pulling right back and starting the engine. They said nothing more to each other; there was nothing more to be said.

Clark watched Lex's tail lights fade away, feeling his body still thrumming from the sweet intensity of their kiss, happy and sad at the same time. He headed back to the house and the cheerful noises of his party.

Jonathan was standing on the porch. Clark knew that from that angle, even if he could have seen the truck, he couldn't have seen them kiss, but he probably didn't need to, either, to know.

"Lex has gone?" Jonathan asked, a little tentatively.

"Mm-hm," Clark confirmed.

The farmer looked abashed. "Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

Clark shook his head. "It's okay, Dad. He didn't leave because of you. Not entirely, at any rate. He said a couple of days ago that he wouldn't be staying long. For safety's sake."

"I see." That didn't reassure Jonathan as much as it might have. "Still - I'm sorry I got on his case."

"Again," Clark added, without heat. Then he looked at his father calmly. "I am going away with him in a couple of weeks. Please don't make that any more difficult than it has to be."

"It's difficult for any parent to see their child grow up and away from them…"

Clark gave him an affectionately scornful look. "Please! If I was talking of going away with a girl, you wouldn't be nearly so upset."

"That's what you think!" Jonathan defended, amused. "Trust me, I wouldn't be at all happy at the prospect of you taking off with a girlfriend for a week or so, with only one thing obviously on your mind!"

Clark grinned, though he colored a little. "I thought that was traditional for teenagers. The one-track mind thing, I mean."

"It's also traditional for parents not to be too happy about it." He hesitated a moment. "Clark - could it ever be a girl?"

The boy turned curious eyes on him. "Are you asking me if I'm really gay?"

"I guess," Jonathan admitted grudgingly.

Clark thought about it. "I'm not sure. If - if Lex hadn't been in the picture - yes, I suppose we might be talking about a girl. I certainly hadn't… considered guys, um, that way, until Lex came along. On the other hand, I thought I liked Lana that way before, but… what I felt for her, and anything I may have felt for anyone else - it's nothing like what I feel for Lex. Just - like the faintest shadow." He gave his father a slanted, curiously adult smile. "Why, were you thinking about grandchildren?"

Jonathan half-laughed. "Not yet. Maybe somewhere at the back of my mind."

"Yeah, well - you never considered that it might not be possible, anyway?" he pointed out, his voice very soft. "I may look human, but…"

Jonathan was startled. "You've already thought of that?"

"Sure. That and a dozen other things. Ever since you told me." He looked out over the sunflower beds, his expression curiously lost. "Even more so since I saw Cassandra's vision." He pushed away from the rail. "You've got to get off Lex's case, Dad. I love him, and I'm going to be with him for as long as we can both manage."

The turn of phrase caught Jonathan's attention. "As long as you can both manage?"

Clark smiled wryly. "He won't let me say 'forever' to him. Says I'm too young. Then he laughs and says we're both too young. That we have a lot of changes to face, whether we like it or not, and who knows what's going to come out the other side."

"Well, stupid's about the last thing anyone could call Lex," Jonathan acknowledged, in a similar wry tone.

"There were so many names on those tombstones I didn't know at all," Clark said, a little distantly, referring to his vision again. "I don't know if they're people around now, or people yet to come. The one name I didn't see was Lex's. Even now, when I sometimes dream about it, and see the vision again, I still don't see 'Lex Luthor' on one of the headstones. I think, on the whole, I find that a little comforting. Maybe I'm not going to be completely alone in the future after all."

Jonathan was a little stunned at the depths of introspection Clark was showing, and a little grieved by it, too. Clark's childhood had been cut short by the revelation of his origins, that much was very clear now.

"Hey," he punched Clark's shoulder lightly, "no brooding for the birthday boy. Your mother's going to have my hide if I let you stay out here 'thinking' like this any longer."

Clark laughed, his usual bright smile reappearing easily, and they returned indoors.

* * *

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/00003xsk/)

 

The invitation arrived in the mail four days later. It was propped in front of Clark's usual table place when he got home from school, a stiff, expensive, ivory-colored envelope addressed neatly in black ink. Clark looked at his mother, and she looked back at him with raised and inquisitive eyebrows, so he picked it up and opened it.

"Mr. Clark Kent," he read aloud, "is cordially invited by Bruce Wayne to attend a reception in celebration of the 16th Birthday of his ward Richard Grayson, to be held on Sunday, March 24, 2002, at Wayne Manor, Gotham County. 9 p.m. Dress formal. P.S. Dear Clark, please join us on the 23rd, if you can. It will give us a chance to get acquainted before all the boring stuff starts! Of course you'll be staying at the Manor for at least those two nights. All the best, Dick Grayson."

He was smiling when he stopped reading. The formal part of the invitation was printed in a beautiful, formal cursive. The P.S., though, was written in a bold, energetic script, and Clark believed for a moment he could hear the other boy's voice.

"Boring stuff?" Martha commented, half-laughing herself. "That's a fine way to talk about your own birthday party."

Clark grinned. "Lex told me that Grayson actually turned 16 back in December. This has got to be some sort of formal shindig Bruce feels obliged to hold just because of who he is - and since Dick's his heir…"

"I see. Well, sort of. I guess in those sorts of circles, you do have to make a show."

"Ask Lex about it," Clark advised, only half-joking. "He ought to know just about everything there is to know about being the heir to a business empire."

"Pretty well," confirmed a lazy voice from the open doorway. "What's the question?"

"Lex," Clark beamed, his joy shining from his eyes. They had had little occasion to be together since the party, and he was missing his friend.

"Hey, there." Lex's voice lingered warmly over the greeting, as his gaze lingered over Clark's bright features.

Martha registered this with interest. She had started taking note of all the little signs that should have warned her much earlier as to how matters stood between Lex and her son, and the most betraying, yet the most subtle, was the softening of Lex's tone whenever he spoke to Clark, something that was completely absent with anyone else.

"I see you got your invitation," Lex added.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/00002g3e/)

"That was kind of the question," Martha put in. "Clark says this Grayson boy had his birthday months ago. What's with the formal invitation?"

Lex rolled his eyes. "It's something for the parasites. Dick is currently Bruce's only likely successor. Not that he's actually stated it, but no one would imagine anything different right now. From what I know of them, they both hate this kind of function, but the only way to get left in peace most of the time is just to give in once in a while and let everyone come and do their song and dance. Clark's right, I've been through the same thing myself. Except I probably enjoyed it more," he added with a cynical twist to his lips. "I don't mind seeing how far people will go to kiss ass, it amuses me. Neither Bruce nor Dick share that pastime with me."

"Here." Clark held out his invitation to Lex. "Are we going early?"

Lex scanned it, and nodded approvingly. "Yes. He's right, it'll look better if you're obviously at least acquainted before the party."

Clark colored. "Does he know…?"

Lex smiled a little at him, and nodded again. "I imagine so. He and Bruce are pretty close. This," he tapped Clark's invitation, "doesn't sound to me like he's got any problems with it."

"How well do you know him?" Clark asked curiously.

"Dick? Only passingly. I know Bruce a lot better. I met the boy when he was first adopted. Maybe four or five times since then, that's all." He chuckled. "Still, well enough for us to trade insults."

"What?" Both Martha and Clark were surprised.

"Oh, we got off on the wrong foot when we first met. I was 13, and an arrogant prick - excuse the language, Martha - and he was 8 and fresh out of the circus, no social veneer worth mentioning. We rubbed each other the wrong way at first. I learned a few manners after that, though, and he's the forgiving sort, so we got along better later on."

Clark cocked his head. "I can't imagine you being uncivil. Not on the face of it, no matter what you might have thought underneath."

Lex laughed faintly, and smoothed a hand over his scalp. "Well, you have to realize, I didn't really know a lot of kids. I'd been in private tuition while recovering from the radiation effects, so I was at least two years ahead of my age group in schoolwork, and my father didn't encourage friendships, anyway. I think I was jealous of Dick, you know? He'd had a real childhood, and even with the loss of his parents, there was Bruce, and Alfred - that's Bruce's butler, you'll meet him. He sort of took over as Bruce's father after the Waynes were killed. Anyway, even though the whole set-up was new, they were obviously trying, and succeeding, to create a real relationship. Also - " he paused, and colored slightly, "he was just so damned healthy! When I thought of myself at the same age, even before the meteor strike… and there was Dick, who was fast and strong and vital, and just your original Energizer Bunny!

"Like I said, I think I was jealous. He's smart, to boot - I could have written him off as a jock in the making if he'd been just average, but for a kid who never had any formal schooling up to that point, he was doing very well in class. Anyway, I wasn't exactly discreet about my opinions, and he just reacted to it." He pulled a face, self-mocking. "Very undignified for the teenager I was. We got over it, thankfully. Like I said, I learned manners, and he's tolerant."

Clark was half-smiling and half-frowning. "Well - he'd better not try calling you names around me," he said warningly.

Lex laughed, his expression melting. "That's why I'm telling you, Clark. He's earned the right, believe me, because I was pretty damn obnoxious to him at times."

Clark made a faint disbelieving sound, but smiled back. "So - when are we leaving?"

"First thing in the morning on the 23rd? We'll be in Gotham by early afternoon. I'll pick you up."

"Sure. I'd better stop by the tux place, too," he added to his mother.

"Not necessary," Lex interjected. "I've seen to that."

Again, he got the joint startled look. "Um - how do you know my sizes?" Clark asked.

"Oh, please," Lex scoffed lightly, "I haven't been hanging around you for all these months without noticing a few things."

"Well, I can't say the same."

"No comment," Lex smirked.

"Lex, I'm not sure…" Martha began.

He looked at her. "If it really matters that much, the formal wear can stay at my place, Martha, so you'll never see it. There will be times when Clark's going to be seen in public with me, however, and he needs to look right. For his own sake, as much as anything else." He seemed to draw in on himself a little, protectively. "That's not the main point. After the party, I'd like to take Clark away for a week."

"Away?" She seemed almost afraid.

"Safe," he said bluntly, then smiled a little. "I have my idea. It's a bit early in the year, but with some luck, we'll still have sun, sea and sand." His smile warmed as he turned it directly on Clark. "You can learn to snorkel, if you want. Then you can try to teach me," he added humorously.

Clark cocked his head, quizzical. "I thought you knew how to dive?"

"Scuba diving, sure. It's not exactly the same thing. Dad considered snorkeling too childish. I should warn you I hate breathing in water," he said, with mock solemnity.

"You know I'd never let anything happen to you," Clark returned tenderly.

"I know."

They were caught up in each other again, gazes locked together, and Martha had the strange impression that even though they were feet apart, they might as well have been in each others' arms.

"I don't suppose it'll make a lot of difference what your father and I might have to say about it?" she remarked quietly.

They both looked at her.

"No, Mom," Clark answered, equally quietly. "I'm going. Lex just doesn't want to cause trouble here."

"It's a little late for that," she returned, though without heat.

"Then blame me, not him. If I hadn't made the first move - and I did - none of us would have known anything about it. He'd never have spoken out. I did make that first move, and I want all the rest of it now. You can't keep me under wraps forever," he said earnestly.

She came up to him, and smoothed his black hair away from his face lovingly. "I know, honey. It's just - you expect your child to take small steps forward, always, and this - this just seems like a huge leap into the unknown."

"Not from where I'm standing."

His gaze was clear and steadfast, and after a moment, she nodded. "I'll talk to your father."

He hugged her suddenly, until she squeaked for breath. "Love you, Mom."

She hugged him back, then let go, trying to recover a semblance of dignity in front of their visitor, when she realized that Lex was no longer in the kitchen. She turned surprised eyes on Clark, to find him looking beyond her, to the door - or rather, just to the left of the door - his expression a little sad.

"Clark?"

He looked down at her. "Don't you get it? He'd give anything to have someone care for him the way you and Dad care for me," he said softly, then his chin went up. "I'm going to do that. Care for him like that, so that he really knows that he's loved."

She patted his cheek gently. "If anyone can do that, you can. You have the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known."

**End Chapter Five**


	6. The Oak and the Cypress (06/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 6 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 5442  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17 (definitely, in this post)  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER SIX**

Clark's eyes widened as they pulled up the drive, and he ducked his head and craned to look out the front window and get the full size of the place.

"Wow!"

Lex chuckled. "Yep. And you thought my place was ostentatious!"

"Was this also, um, imported?"

"No, that's an original neo-Gothic creation. Thomas Wayne was a bit of an odd-ball, by all accounts - that's Bruce's great-grandfather, who founded the Wayne fortune."

"Wow," Clark repeated. "It looks like - like the Addams Family home!"

Lex gave a snort of laughter. "Oh, God, I'd love to see Alfred's face if you compared him to Lurch!"

"Lex, if you repeat that to anyone…"

He sniggered wickedly. "Are you going to make it worth my while?"

In a flash, Clark's gaze turned smoldering. They had spent a large portion of the flight to Gotham - made in a private Wayne Enterprises jet - necking passionately, and Clark had already learned a few things about his lover-to-be.

"I could," he said suggestively, in a low tone.

"Hold that thought."

They were pulling up in front of the imposing front portal before Clark could continue the conversation, and the front door opened promptly, to reveal a slim young man - a boy, really - and a very much older man in the formal dress of an old-style butler. Both came down the steps to greet them, the man at a sedate, dignified pace, the boy with a light, dancing step that was remarkably eye-catching. He was a very good-looking boy altogether, quite similar to Clark himself in some respects; black hair, bright blue eyes, light gold skin. There the resemblance stopped. Dick - for that was who Clark presumed him to be - was quite a bit smaller, not much more than 5'10" or 11", but he bore himself with the elegant grace of a much taller man. He was also much more powerfully muscled than his youthful sleekness suggested, Clark noticed after a moment, but the impact of the muscle was concealed beneath the natural fluency of his movements.

Lex was already out of the car, and looking up at the boy with an amused, appraising expression.

"Is that the circus brat?" His blue-gray gaze swept up and down over the trim form with a deliberately provocative glance. "You've filled out nicely, kid," he added approvingly.

The boy laughed, a deep, amused sound. "Hey, Chromedome. Thanks, I guess." He returned the blatant survey with interest. "I can tell you, that's a better look on you at 21 than it was at 14." The brilliant blue eyes turned towards Clark, who was frowning just a little, and the boy laughed again. "Don't mind the banter. Lex and I can't say two words to each other without getting a little offensive. Old history. Nothing personal." He came down the rest of the steps, his smile bright and open, and his hand held out. "You must be Clark. Bruce has told me quite a bit about you. Nice to meet you."

Clark couldn't withstand the other's good humor, and shook hands, a little shyly. "Hi. Um, thanks for the invitation."

"Oh, hey, it'll be cool to have someone my own age around who isn't part of the Gotham Who's Who. Trust me, boring? You haven't seen anything yet."

"I thought they'd taught you manners, Grayson," Lex smiled lazily.

"Tomorrow night, butter won't melt in my mouth," he said angelically. "Today, I can still say what I think." The bright eyes returned to Clark. "Welcome to The Pile," and he gestured grandly to the looming mansion before them.

That startled a laugh out of Clark, echoed by the other boy.

"What, you think I've ever taken this place seriously? I thought it was a museum when I first moved in. Then I used to get lost regularly."

"Quite deliberately as well, Master Dick," the elderly man said, speaking up for the first time.

"Well, sure, what was the fun otherwise?" the boy laughed up at him, affection evident all over. "Clark, this is Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce's butler, chauffeur, and general right-hand man, and Bruce would be completely lost without him, believe me. Call him Alfred, or he'll get upset."

Clark had been about to say "Mr. Pennyworth" when proffering his hand, and got flustered. His hand was taken and shaken firmly.

"Mr. Kent."

"Uh - that's my dad," Clark said shyly. "Clark, please."

Alfred inclined his head with a faint smile, then looked at Lex. "Good to see you again, Mr. Luthor."

"Alfred," Lex smiled back. "I trust you've forgiven me my escapades from last time?"

"Something tells me you've outgrown that particular phase, sir. You have luggage?"

"Let's let the kids take care of that," Lex smirked. "Bruce?"

"Master Bruce will be in town until early evening, but he will be dining with us. If I might show you to your rooms…?"

Meanwhile, Dick had turned back to Clark, with a vaguely outraged air. "Kids? Don't you ever want to smack him upside the head for that kind of thing?"

Clark grinned. "He never calls me that. I think that must have been for you." Nevertheless, he went to the trunk and began to collect the bags. Dick weighed in promptly, relieving Clark of a share of the luggage without hesitation.

"Bruce said you two were an item, but we've still set up separate rooms, in case… you know," Dick said as they entered the house, loudly enough to be heard by the pair in front of him.

Clark wasn't sure. He knew he wanted to be wrapped around Lex, but he also knew that they were two nights away from some Mediterranean resort, and a week of complete privacy.

Lex glanced back over his shoulder at his young lover, thoughtfully.

"There are going to be other guests here, right?"

"Not tonight, sir," Alfred said, "but tomorrow night, yes, there will be some houseguests after the party."

Lex turned to face Clark, and looked up at him, his expression wistful. He caressed Clark's cheek gently. "I guess it's separate rooms for a couple of days yet, then?" He was audibly regretful.

"Lex…" Clark pouted a little.

"Not with complete strangers on the premises." Lex hooked a hand around Clark's neck to draw his head down, and murmured something inaudible in the teenager's ear.

Clark went wide-eyed, then laughed, blushing hotly. "Lex!"

Lex was laughing up at him. "Anticipation makes everything sweeter, farmboy." He turned back to Alfred. "Separate rooms, Alfred."

"Yes, sir," the butler said calmly.

Dick was grinning at the still pink-cheeked Clark. "Lex? You've got to teach him to stop blushing."

"You think I haven't tried?" Lex tossed back dryly. "I'm afraid it comes naturally." He looked back at Clark, his face alight with affectionate amusement. "Though I think I'd miss it if he stopped."

"Just because you never get embarrassed at anything," Clark grumbled, taking the teasing good-naturedly.

Alfred showed them to two rooms that faced each other across a broad corridor. "This room," he said, opening the door to the right, "has the morning exposure. Otherwise they are more or less identical."

"Clark can have that one," Lex said. "He's used to getting up with the chickens. I, on the other hand, like to sleep in when I get the chance."

Clark shot him an amused look, but didn't contradict him, and they separated, Alfred taking Lex's bags into the room he had chosen.

"Can I give you a hand?" Dick asked Clark casually.

Clark realized that he wanted to talk some more, and nodded, smiling. "Sure. Though there's not much to unpack, I guess. Most of it's for… uh…." He stopped short, blushing again.

"The honeymoon?" Dick teased. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not sure exactly, but France, I think, somewhere on the Mediterranean coast." He began to unpack his tuxedo, while Dick opened armoire doors to show him where he could put his stuff. "So, um, what's with the formal party?" he asked, wanting to change the subject before he could get too embarrassed again.

"Oh - Bruce was kind of railroaded into it. Everyone - and I mean everyone, even Luke - that's Lucius Fox - who normally knows perfectly well that Bruce hates the social whirl, and so do I - was saying that we really had to, you know, do something to mark my sixteenth." He pulled a face. "It's going to be hell, believe me. A lot of people I certainly don't know, and Bruce barely knows, sucking up to him, one way or another. As for the others - well, I've never really fitted in, and they like to try to remind me of that. Funny how I can't seem to get it through to them I don't give a shit." He grinned. "So - I hope you've got a long fuse, or that Lex has, come to that."

"Lex will fit right in," Clark pointed out, not quite following.

"Oh, I know that. He's slicker than Bruce, usually. However, you've got no more 'background' than I do, and trust me, there are a couple of so-called high-class mooks coming who're going to enjoy themselves making loud comments all night long. At least one of you had better not give a damn."

"I see." Clark was a little amused. "I wouldn't say either of us has a short fuse. Lex isn't somebody to cross lightly, though. If they're as connected as all that, they ought to know that."

Dick looked at him sharply. "So you do know that much about him."

Clark stopped what he was doing and returned the look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Dick promptly held up his hands. "I'm not trying to pick a fight. It's just - I'm having a bit of a hard time trying to wrap my head around what could have changed Lex so much that Bruce is prepared to help him out to this extent, okay? Because, you know, he was kind of a wild child at one point, and then he seemed to disappear behind the image - the Luthor heir. Which was something Bruce definitely had no time for."

"That's all changed, and you have no idea of how things between Lex and his father stand."

"All I'm saying is that if you're aware he's got his flaws, then that's a good thing."

"Lex is not a bad man," Clark said firmly.

Dick sighed exaggeratedly. "Okay, leaving aside your personal bias, maybe he's not. But he's been brought up badly, he's so intelligent it's almost frightening - and truly smart people can be both scary and dangerous, mainly because they get bored real easy - and I hope even you know that single-minded doesn't begin to cover it. Just because he's made certain decisions lately doesn't alter that much about him. What does seem completely new is that he seems to want to change, really seriously. Bruce says that's your doing."

Clark shook his head. "I've never asked anything of him, and I don't want to. He's my friend, and soon he's going to be a lot more than that." His tone was defiant.

Dick smiled. "You've got it bad. I'm not arguing, but I don't believe in coincidences, either."

Clark made a vague sound. "I know what you mean there," he muttered.

"How did you meet, anyway? Actually, what on earth is Lex doing in a rural town like Smallville in the first place? No offense intended," Dick asked, in open curiosity.

Clark went back to his unpacking, smiling a little. "None taken. He did - does - seem pretty out of place there. An orchid transplanted into a cabbage patch- something my mom said a few months ago. I don't know exactly why, but it was some scheme of Lionel Luthor's. A test - or maybe several."

Dick laughed softly. "Which I bet he's regretting now! What about your meeting?"

Clark shrugged, a little shyly. "I saved his life. He had a car accident, went off a bridge and into the river. I was in the right place at the right time."

"Well, that's certainly one way to make an impression," he teased. "So - did you know immediately he was Mr. Right?"

Clark shot him a wry look. "You've got to be joking! I didn't even know it was possible to think of a guy - that way - back then."

"You make it sound like a hundred years ago."

"Sometimes it feels like it. A lot of things have changed, so fast."

Dick nodded. "Been there, done that."

It was Clark's turn to be curious. "Coming to live here, you mean?"

He nodded again. "At first it was just plain weird to be, well, settled, you know? Coming back to the same house to sleep, night after night. Going to the same school every day. I don't think I'd ever spent more than two weeks in one place before. Though we did go back to some places on a regular basis."

"Do you miss it still? The circus?"

"Sometimes. I'm still in touch with them, though. Bruce never wanted me to lose contact with the only kind of family I really have."

"He said," Clark said hesitantly, "that your parents were murdered."

Dick did not seem upset. "Yeah. A local small-time gangster into the protection racket tried to pressure Haly - that was the circus owner - and Bill threw him out. So he sabotaged the catcher's bar. We were aerialists," he added, in response to Clark's slightly querying look. "Trapeze artists. I'd have been the fifth generation. I was already part of the act, even then." He smiled quickly, reminiscently. "Actually, I'm in the record books. Youngest artiste ever to perform the triple somersault successfully."

"You're kidding!"

"Absolutely not," Dick defended himself humorously. "I'll prove it to you later, the books are in the library."

"Wow. I'm impressed," Clark said honestly.

Grinning, Dick took a highly theatrical bow, and both boys were laughing when Lex sauntered in. He raised an eyebrow at the laughter but asked no questions, merely smiled and came up behind Clark, sliding an arm around the teenager's waist.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

Clark turned his head to smile directly into Lex's eyes, getting that warm, tingly feeling all over when he saw the gray-blue gaze darken with heat and love.

"Everything's fine," he said softly.

There was a discreet sound of throat-clearing behind them. "I think that's my cue to leave," Dick smiled wickedly. "Dinner's usually around 7:30. There's a first bell about half an hour beforehand."

He was gone before Clark could tear himself away from Lex's smoldering gaze to thank him, and it was just as well, because the next moment, Lex was nuzzling at Clark's earlobe. In the extensive necking session in the plane, they had discovered a good deal about where each other's sensitive spots were. Clark's blood turned to fire, and he moaned, putting his head back to expose his throat.

Lex's arms slid around him fully, his elegant hands making short work of his shirt buttons, and pulling up his undershirt so they could stroke warm, bare flesh, while his mouth continued to feast on the smooth column of Clark's throat.

"Lex…." It was difficult to think with Lex's mouth warm against his skin, and his fingers brushing teasingly against Clark's nipples. "Oh, God, Lex!" His jeans were definitely feeling too tight now. "Lex - wait…"

Lex stopped immediately. "Am I going too fast?" he asked quietly.

"No!" Clark turned in his embrace to face him, his expression earnest. "No, Lex, don't think that. It's just - I don't understand. If we're going to make  
love - why did you opt for separate rooms?"

Lex relaxed a little, smiling, and his hands, now behind Clark, stroked the small of his back lightly. "Okay, I guess it looks like mixed signals. See, you could think of this as something like a twelve-step program. By the time we get to the final stages," his smile turned purely wicked, "you're going to be screaming my name. Then I'm going to teach you how to make me scream yours. That's something I don't want to share with a houseful of strangers. There are quite a few stages between here and there, though, and right now, in this very large house, there's just you and me, and a boy and an elderly man who both have probably got plenty of other things to do. I thought we could probably progress from necking to heavy petting about now."

Clark smiled back, broadly, and lowered his head to bump foreheads lightly with Lex. "So - this is where I lose my virginity?" he murmured.

Lex chuckled softly, tilting his head to take little, biting kisses at Clark's lower lip. "Just the first nibble at the cherry," he amended. His fingers slid into Clark's waistband. "Come on, let's go rumple the bed."

He pulled back, keeping his fingers hooked inside Clark's jeans, and drawing the boy with him. Clark followed willingly, eager and shy at the same time, almost trembling. By the side of the bed, Lex faced him, and unsnapped the top button of his jeans, but then moved his hands to Clark's wrists to unbutton his cuffs, and then slid his hands up the broad chest to push the shirt off Clark's shoulders. Wrists freed, the shirt slid down his arms to the floor. Again, with that sensual caress, Lex slid his hands under Clark's T-shirt and pushed it up. Clark took it up and stripped it off in one fluid moment. Lex met his gaze intently, his tiny, satisfied smile lifting the corners of his mouth slightly, and put his pale, long-fingered hands on Clark's shoulders, where they lingered for a moment before beginning to stroke the exposed expanse of golden skin. Lex touched Clark delicately all over, fingertips learning every contour of bone and muscle.

"The first time I saw you shirtless," he said softly, "I wanted to know just what all that beautiful skin felt like. I felt envious of the sun, just because it got to kiss you all over, and touch that warm satin the way I wanted to touch it. I nearly came in my pants - I haven't done that since I was younger than you." He gave a husky laugh, and moved closer to Clark suddenly, pressing against him so that Clark felt the hardness against his hip, and then moved away again. "I think I could probably come just from touching you. I'd like to try, one day."

His thumbs brushed over Clark's nipples, and the boy gave a little moan of pleasure as the touch sent tremors of arousal through his whole body. Clark brought his own hands up - they were shaking - and scrabbled at Lex's shirt, fumbling for the buttons, wanting to echo Lex's caress, to touch that pale, creamy skin. Lex continued to stroke his torso with a gently possessive touch, flicking over the hardening, caramel-colored nipples from time to time in an erratic pattern that had Clark whimpering softly. He only broke contact when Clark had undone all his buttons, and was pushing the shirt down over his shoulders. Lex shrugged the fine cotton material off quickly, and shivered with pleasure when Clark's warm hands settled on his skin.

"Lex, can I…?" Clark breathed.

"Anything you want, Clark, anything," Lex promised, and moved in close so that bare chest touched bare chest, and he angled for a long, hungry kiss. When it broke, he dove for Clark's nipples, fastening his mouth hungrily on one dark peak, and wringing a soft cry from the boy.

He feasted on Clark's nipples slowly and thoroughly, aware of the increasing tension in the strong, young body, of the feverish caress of the big hands on his own skin, of the racing heartbeat and the warm and spicy scent of Clark's arousal. When he undid the remaining buttons on Clark's jeans, and slid his long fingers inside to cup Clark's genitals through the soft cotton boxers, there was no shock reaction from Clark, just a long, low moan of pleasure and a slight thrust against his hand. He smiled against Clark's skin, lapping still at a faintly reddening nipple. The boy was so responsive - he had been sure of it from the nature of his kisses, but it was still nice to have things confirmed. He nipped a little sharply at the plump nipple between his lips, and drew back, though his fingers still stroked Clark's shaft lightly - touching wasn't enough there, it felt like a truly impressive piece of flesh, and Lex wanted to see. Clark pouted at the loss of contact, which just made Lex want to kiss him senseless.

"Shh, it's all right, I'm not done," he smiled. "Strip for me, Clark. Let me see that beautiful body."

Eagerly, Clark took a step back, and peeled off the rest of his clothes, though when he was done, and stood naked before Lex, and took in Lex's hot, admiring stare, he colored vividly. Lex glanced up into his face, with an amused look, and reached out to skim fingertips over his waist and hip.

"You blush all over, Clark, did you know that?" he smiled.

"I - you - will you…" he stammered.

"Undress?" Lex supplied, and smiled when Clark nodded. "With pleasure."

Clark's eyes widened when Lex stood naked before him, and filled with pleased wonder. "You really are a redhead."

Lex laughed. He was used to the reaction when lovers saw the small but dense triangle of coppery-red curls framing his penis. Apart from his brows and lashes, it was the only hair on his pale body, and against his creamy skin, it was a flamboyant touch of color.

"Do you want to touch?" he asked, in a sultry tone, and watched the color flow in Clark's golden skin again. "You can touch, Clark, anywhere you want, any way you want."

He sighed with pleasure, his cock filling further, when broad fingers stroked over his hips, and into the small, silken patch of hair, not quite touching his cock. Then, when Clark bent his head to kiss Lex's nipples tentatively, Lex gave a deep purr of pleasure. He twined long fingers into the thick, black curls to hold Clark's head close, and arched his back to present his nipples better for Clark's hot mouth.

"You like that," Clark said, against his skin.

"Oh, yes. Bite me, Clark. Not hard, just so I can feel your teeth."

Clark was a quick study, and Lex gasped in delight as he complied perfectly. He curled his fingers firmly around Clark's lusty cock, and tugged very lightly, teasingly, leading him to the bed, loving the reverberations from Clark's groans against his skin.

"Let's get horizontal," Lex panted.

Then they were, and kissing hotly, tongues dueling, teasing, tasting, hands roving freely, petting and stroking and pinching, until Lex took control again, slid his hand between them to clasp both their cocks so that they slid against each other, friction eased by the copious outpouring of pre-come from both of them. Clark moaned into Lex's mouth as he felt his cock slide against Lex's, and thrust against him eagerly. Lex laughed throatily, and guided his movements until they flowed together in a supple dance of pleasure, growing increasingly frantic. Clark suddenly put his head back with a hoarse cry of ecstasy, and hot seed fountained between them. The spasms in the flesh Lex held tipped him over the edge, too, seconds later, and he buried his face against Clark's throat, breath catching in eager sobs as orgasm took him as well.

Even in the afterglow, Lex could not relinquish the full, satin shaft he held, which had not completely deflated. He stroked it lightly, and with his thumb massaged the slit in the fat crown very gently, Clark's semen serving nicely as lubricant. It was a slow, lazy, almost abstract movement, but very soon Clark was whimpering softly, and the hot flesh was hardening in his hand, engorging eagerly.

"You have such a beautiful cock," Lex murmured.

"Ah, Lex…"

The young man rubbed his cheek against one broad shoulder, and nibbled at a pert nipple, laughing softly. "Sweet sixteen. Always ready for more."  
Clark writhed under him, arousal consuming him once more. "Lex - Lex, yes, more…"

"You're so responsive," Lex marveled, and shifted a little away from Clark, who whined, protesting. "No, no, I'm not going anywhere. I just want to see you when you come." He stroked more firmly, watching Clark tremble under his caress. "God, you're exquisite like this." He lowered his head to kiss Clark teasingly, and then to tease his nipples again a little. "Your skin is flushed all over. Your mouth is so red and full. Your eyes glow, and your body, your body invites sin, Clark. You look shameless and debauched and unutterably beautiful, and if you're like this just from a hand-job, I can't wait to see you with your legs spread and eager, and with me buried inside you, fucking you deep and slow and hot." His voice dropped another notch or two, hot and unbearably sexy. "Because that's what I'm going to do to you very soon. I'm going to stroke your pretty little pucker, and open you up for me, and sink my cock into your perfect ass, and fuck you 'til your balls run dry, and you'll never be able to sit down again without thinking of me in you, even when you can't feel it anymore."

It was enough. Clark gave a wail, which Lex swallowed with his kiss, and ejaculated copiously. Lex raised his head to look down at his spasming lover, taking in the arching body, the beautiful face contorted in wanton pleasure, eyes closed and mouth open, gasping, and the large cock pulsing in Lex's hand.

"Beautiful," Lex whispered, prayerfully.

He was concerned, in the next few minutes, though, to see tears leaking from under Clark's eyelids. He scooted closer again, and slid his arm under Clark's shoulders to hold him tight, his other hand still gently fondling Clark's balls. He covered Clark's face with tiny, tender kisses.  
"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Clark, love, don't cry," he murmured urgently. "Tell me what's wrong, I'll fix it."

There was a gasp that sounded half-way between a laugh and a sob, and Clark turned in his hold, wrapping his arms almost painfully tightly around him and burying his face in the curve of Lex's neck, where Lex could feel more tears. Lex held on, murmuring reassurance in one ear constantly, until the boy's tremors subsided, stroking his back comfortingly.

"Clark, please," he whispered into the ear nearest his lips, "what's wrong? You - I didn't hurt you, did I? God, Clark, if you were hurting, you should have said…"

There was a mute shake of the dark head under his chin, and he felt warm lips press against his shoulder, in a kiss, then a light nibble, then another kiss. Then there was a pronounced sniff, and Clark looked up, and was smiling waveringly. Lex stared at him, a little bewildered, and kissed the tear tracks tenderly.

"Clark?"

"It - it felt so good, Lex," Clark whispered shyly. "I didn't…. It - it was nothing like… you know… doing it alone. I didn't know. So… free."

"Well, good," Lex said, still a bit confused. "You were…. Feeling good makes you cry?"

"I just…. It was… so much. Is it always that good?"

Lex gave a little laugh, and stroked his cheek gently. "Clark - that was just the beginning. It gets a whole lot better."

Clark's eyes widened, then he buried his face against Lex's chest again. Lex could see the blush around his ears, and he nipped the tempting lobes affectionately.

"So… you were just a little overwhelmed?" he asked, just to be sure.

Clark nodded, embarrassed.

"Okay," Lex said equably. "Um - that's good, on the whole. Though I'd kind of like it if you didn't burst into tears afterwards, because you scared the hell out of me, you know."

He felt an apologetic kiss placed over his nipple, and then Clark's roving hands suddenly seemed to have acquired a purpose, and Lex's body was responding enthusiastically. He flexed under Clark's bigger form, a low purr rising from his throat as a large hand enclosed him carefully, but firmly. Clark nibbled kisses up from Lex's breast, up the smooth, pale throat and along the strong jaw, his hand working surely, though gently at Lex's cock.

"Am I doing this right?" he whispered in Lex's ear.

Lex made a sound of assent, his hips thrusting up into Clark's fist. "Tighter," he breathed. "You can hold me tighter…ah, good!" he panted, as Clark's fingers obediently tightened around his shaft.

Clark was entranced. He understood now why Lex had wanted just to see him come, because he was seeing the same thing, seeing Lex in the throes of passion; color staining his pale skin all over; slim, muscled body flexing in response to the lightest pressure from Clark's hand; long, fine cock hot and throbbing and glorious in Clark's grasp; expression transfigured in ecstasy, more unguarded than Clark had ever seen him before. When Clark worked him a little harder still, in response to the eager thrusts from the trim hips, and felt the tension build in him, and then watched him come, he was the most amazing thing Clark had ever seen. He watched Lex's orgasm in awe, drinking in the perfection of the sweat-slicked body, and reveling in the low, hoarse cries, in which he just discerned his name.

Lex was floating on a sea of post-coital pleasure, dimly aware of Clark still stroking him, though soothingly rather than arousingly now, and of Clark's soft, plush lips roving over the sensitive skin of his bald scalp. He gave a satisfied sigh, and found the strength to move his noodle-limp arms and wrap them around his farmboy's muscular form, snuggling in.

Clark laughed a little, tenderly, still kissing that satin-smooth bare skin amorously. "I never figured you for a snuggler, Lex," he teased.

Lex cracked open an eye, reluctantly, smirking a little. "I'm not. Not usually. Something about having this strapping space-heater of a farmboy in my bed…"

"Technically, it's my bed," Clark pointed out.

Lex sighed. "Sophist."

"Is that good or bad?"

"It means you talk too much when your mouth could be advantageously employed elsewhere." It would have come out tart if Lex had had the energy.

Clark giggled, and hugged him closer, employing his mouth gainfully in caressing Lex's beautiful, bald head. Lex made a low, pleasurable sound deep in his throat, and then laughed.

"You have a kink for my head," he said, in the tone of one making a new discovery.

"Uh-huh," Clark agreed without hesitation.

"Amazing," he said wonderingly, though a little slurred, sated fatigue claiming him.

Clark laughed immoderately, though silently. "Oh, Lex…"

Lex just pressed against him lazily. "Aren't you done for the time being? Sleep, Clark."

It was true that Clark felt pleasantly languorous and asked nothing better than to close his eyes and doze off like this, with Lex warm and heavy in his arms, his scent filling Clark's nostrils, his body pure satin against Clark's skin.

"Aren't they expecting us?" he asked tentatively.

"Not for a while."

"Oh - okay. That's… nice," Clark smiled a little.

"So sleep, farmboy."

"I shouldn't even be tired," Clark objected vaguely.

Lex levered himself up on one elbow, reluctantly. "Clark, although you certainly still have a few things to learn, we both just came twice within about half an hour, and I, for one, am feeling pretty happy about that."

"Check," Clark agreed, his voice deepening with remembered pleasure.

"Twice in under thirty minutes is usually really good going for most guys," Lex added, his turn to sound amused. "Even for horny sixteen year-olds."

Clark pouted a little. "So…?"

Lex laughed. "So I'm going to have to find other ways to exhaust you, obviously," he conceded. "Don't you just want to snuggle for a little?"

Clark beamed and wrapped himself passionately around Lex. "Yeah," he said, his voice muffled against Lex's chest.

Lex stroked the black hair tenderly. "You're such a sweet boy," he murmured, his voice warm with affection.

With Lex's long fingers in his hair, Clark found himself dozing off almost immediately, all of him deeply attuned to Lex, to his silken-smooth skin, to his lean frame, to the gentle hands stroking him. He was safe, completely, he knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt. His own body sang with pleasure from his orgasms, and his memory fed him delicious images of Lex in ecstasy that would fuel his most erotic fantasies for a long time to come.

**End Chapter Six**


	7. The Oak and the Cypress (07/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 7 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 6806  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

 

The two boys dozed, thoroughly wrapped up in each other, deeply and satisfyingly, until Lex stirred slowly and reluctantly, acutely conscious of the heavy, warm body that pressed him gently into the mattress, and only slowly reconstructing the events of the last couple of hours. With Clark tangled around him like an octopus, there was hardly any mistaking how they had spent the time, and Lex smiled, his body tingling with the memory. He restrained himself, however, and merely nibbled at Clark's earlobe until he began to get some sort of response from his young lover.

Clark was vaguely confused to find himself so sticky - then everything came back in a rush, and he just knew he was blushing violently. The low, sexy chuckle in his ear confirmed it.

"You do know I'm going to be trying to make you blush as often as possible, right?" Lex commented.

"Um - why?"

"Because now I know exactly how far your blush extends. That's going to be a very pleasant thought, when you're all hidden away again," he smirked.

"Lex…!" Then Clark laughed, and turned his head to kiss Lex deeply. "Thank you," he said softly a couple of minutes later, when the kiss finally broke.

"For what?" Lex smiled a little.

"For everything. For being my first. For making it wonderful. For - just everything."

Lex stroked his cheek gently. "You're well worth it, Clark. Besides, it's a privilege, being your first. I should be thanking you. I want it to be perfect for you."

Clark nuzzled into the caressing hand, with a teasing little smile. "That's just you, Lex, you're so obsessive."

Lex snickered. "As you see, it has its good points," he said smugly, and laughed. He stretched languidly, joints cracking a little, and turned to reach for his watch. "Six. We should be getting ready for dinner. Starting with showers." His smile turned sultry, and he bent his face into Clark's throat and breathed in deeply. "Pity. Sex smells good on you."

Clark whimpered. "Lex! Stop it, I'm going to self-combust here."

There was a deep chuckle, and a swift lick to his collarbone, and then Lex was out of bed, leaving him bereft.

"I'm going to shower here before getting dressed again." He looked back at his young lover, and a reluctant smile curled his lips. Clark lay draped out over the bed, luscious and wanton, and for all the color mantling his golden skin, completely unabashed in his naked glory. "I'd suggest sharing the shower, but I know exactly where that would get us, so that's a pleasure we'll be saving for another time."

"You'd kick me out of my own shower?" Clark pouted.

"You bet your delectable ass," Lex said, and his gaze turned to molten silver. "God, I wish I had a camera right now. You have no idea what you look like."

Clark imitated Lex's earlier gesture and stretched slowly and luxuriously. Lex watched him through hooded eyes.

"I see I've woken your inner slut," he remarked, his tone indulgent, and smiled when Clark laughed, as well as blushing. Then he decided discretion was the better part of valor, and went to have his shower.

Clark lounged in his thoroughly rumpled bed, listening to the sound of splashing water. He could 'look' at Lex, he knew, but his control over his enhanced vision was a little iffy yet, and he didn't really want to look at Lex's skeleton. He'd much rather see Lex in all his beautiful, pale, satiny flesh. He shivered a little, not from cold, but from remembered pleasure, from the memory of the feel of Lex's hands and his lips all over Clark's skin. Oh, the pleasure! Clark had touched himself, like any sexually awakening teenager, but that was nothing - nothing - compared to what he'd felt at Lex's hands! He was still in a contemplative daze when Lex emerged - dressed, he noticed to his chagrin.

Lex's gaze was like a heated caress; it seemed to stroke over his bare body, and he had a little frisson of something he couldn't quite define - a complex mix of desire, anticipation, bewilderment - as the blue-gray eyes studied him. Then Lex came over to the bed, leaned down and kissed him, hard.

"You're going to be a real handful," he muttered when he broke the kiss. "Get washed and dressed, hot stuff. I'll come back in half an hour."

"Hot stuff?" Clark sniggered.

"Mmh," Lex concurred. "Very hot. Now, that's enough of that, or we'll never get out of here!"

"Sounds like a proposition to me."

"Save it for our vacation. And don't pout at me," he added tartly, making for the door and silently praying that Clark never found out that that look just reduced him to jelly.

* * *

Half an hour later, Clark was ready, looking just as - well, virginal as when he had arrived, fresh and clean-cut in his jeans and a dark red shirt. Lex had unequivocally vetoed all of Clark's flannel shirts, and supplied half-a-dozen comfortable but smart plain-tone shirts in a variety of strong, though not flamboyant colors - blues and reds, mostly, reflecting Clark's usual gear, but more stylish. This dark red shade was that of Baccarat roses, and the soft cupro fabric echoed the velour of the rose petals. Lex just wanted to stroke him until the demure front cracked - especially as he knew it was a front now, because there was a little light at the back of Clark's blue eyes that… promised. Lex kept his hands to himself, sternly lectured his inner wolf to stand down, and smiled faintly, approvingly.

"You clean up nice, farmboy," he said casually.

Clark laughed. "Bastard."

"Clark!" Lex protested mildly, taking his arm as they went towards the stairs. "How can you say that? You know I'm pedigreed!"

They were still teasing each other, laughing, when they got downstairs, just as Alfred was sounding the half-hour gong.

"Good evening, young sirs," Alfred smiled at the boys. "You'll find Master Bruce in the main library, if you care to join him. May I get you something to drink before dinner?"

"Thank you, Alfred," Lex smiled a little. "A whisky, please, Laphroaig, if possible. Clark?"

"Uh - a root beer?" Clark asked tentatively.

"Of course," Alfred smiled calmly.

"This way," Lex said to the teenager, leading him to doors to the left.

The first room they entered was empty, a large, sort-of living room that wasn't all that welcoming, Clark thought. Lex headed straight on towards the double doors at the opposite end of the room, however, and knocked lightly before opening. This was a similar sized room, but the walls were practically papered with bookshelves. A fire burned in a huge stone fireplace to the right of the door, around which were clustered several very large, leather-bound armchairs, while to the left, under the window, was a massive mahogany desk. The computer seemed incongruous in the Victorian setting. Dick half-sat on the edge of the desk, legs extended in front of him, crossed at the ankles, while Bruce stood leaning lightly on the mantel over the fire. He looked around as the door opened, and smiled that half-smile with which Clark had grown familiar in the four days he had stayed in Smallville.

"Lex, Clark. Good trip?"

"Yes, thank you, Bruce," Lex replied, moving forward to shake his hand. "Thanks for the accommodation, too."

"You're welcome." His expression warmed indefinably as he also shook Clark's hand. "How are you, Clark?"

Clark smiled shyly. He found the Gotham tycoon a little intimidating, and when he had been doing some research after meeting him the first time, he realized that he'd been privileged to see a side of him that most people didn't know existed. The playboy billionaire depicted in the tabloid press was clearly not the man who had worked alongside Lex for hours on end to start Lex's campaign for his independence.

"I'm fine, thank you. Maybe a little off balance, at the moment," he darted a brief, hot, smiling glance at Lex, "but finding my feet again."

"I don't doubt that," Bruce said kindly. "Have a seat, both of you, and tell me the latest."

Clark wished there was a sofa, he'd have liked to sit with Lex, rather than have them separated in big wing chairs, but there was no other option at the moment. So he settled into one of the wing armchairs, as close to Lex as their disposition allowed. Lex, on the other hand, unpleasantly reminded of his day-to-day problems, almost flung himself into the neighboring chair, and let out a disgusted sigh.

"You mean you haven't heard? Among other things, my father tried to have me committed."

Clark sat bolt upright. _He_ hadn't heard this, never mind Bruce. "What?"

Lex winced faintly, and he shot him an apologetic glance. "Sorry, Clark. It was just one nuisance in a string of them."

"A nuisance…!"

"I heard, but I didn't quite believe," Bruce interjected smoothly, forestalling what looked like the makings of a heated argument. "Obviously, he didn't succeed - but I have a problem thinking that he could ever imagine he would."

"You can say that again," Dick agreed as he drew closer and took another of the chairs.

"He's done it before, that's why I didn't take it too seriously this time around," Lex said dryly. "Got me interned at the Ashmount Clinic for about six months when I was seventeen. He owned the place, basically. It worked then, I admit, but this time he made the mistake of figuring that because the staff there would sign anything he told them to, he could do the same again. He forgot that being over 21 makes quite a difference when it comes to psychiatric hearings. So all that little exercise has achieved is getting a couple of doctors struck off the medical register."

"I don't imagine he's too pleased."

"Steaming would be closer to the mark. That's nothing compared to what's waiting for him around the next bend."

Bruce looked sharply at Lex. "What have you done now?"

Lex smirked a little. "Agenothree fell into my hold yesterday. You'll be hearing about it on Monday."

Bruce's eyes widened. "That's LuthorCorp's primary research facility for agro-chemical products!"

Lex nodded. "More than just agro-chemical. Turns out that Dad's been a little unwise about pushing his own projects through there. He never has understood that scientists need to follow their own paths. Sure, you've got to keep a hand on the reins, but these aren't carthorses, they're thoroughbreds - racers. He's stepped on about three projects too many lately. The last time he did that, he had to give Marchetti and Xeong some voting stock, as well as fat bonuses, to keep them on board, and he couldn't afford to lose them. It wasn't going to affect his majority control at the time, so he let it go, to keep them happy. They were the ones who approached me, Bruce. I've worked with them before, of course…"

"It's your field."

"More or less," Lex nodded. "We get along. So they showed me the projects Dad had squashed, in favor of pushing a couple of fertilizer programs way too fast. I used to wonder how he got so careless as to let our environmental rep get so bad; well, now I know. Anyway, we came to an agreement. There's stuff there they really should have been allowed to pursue - treatments for rheumatoid complaints, environmentally friendly cleaning agents for oil spills, improved enzyme inhibitors that don't induce kidney failure, for example - that I'd be interested on working on myself, once I've got my doctorate."

Bruce looked concerned. "You still think he won't go as far as trying to - get rid of you?"

Lex shrugged, though Clark could see he wasn't quite as nonchalant as he appeared to be. "Wouldn't gain him much. I've had a new will drawn up. Most of my voting stock goes to you."

The older man was visibly shocked. "Lex!"

"Well, what would you have me do? Remain intestate? Forget it. I've also got a Living Will now, in case he thinks putting me in a persistent vegetative state would solve his problems with me."

"Lex, I don't want…"

"I know that. That's exactly why I've done it. You don't want it for yourself, but you won't let Dad get it, either - especially not if you think he might have a hand in my death! That suits me fine, I can live with that. Or die with it, as the case may be," he added, with black humor.

"I never imagined for a moment you'd do anything like that," Bruce protested, clearly perturbed. "I supposed… Well, there's Clark…"

Clark started, and looked at Lex, panicked. "Lex, no, you can't…."

He started to reach out to Lex, but hesitated. Lex merely smiled, and caught Clark's hand in his to squeeze it reassuringly.

"I know, Clark. Don't worry about it, I wouldn't burden you with that." He looked back up at Bruce. "I'm surprised at you, Bruce. I wouldn't do a thing like that to him. He's not bred to business the way you and I have been. He couldn't - and wouldn't want to - handle the weight of a LuthorCorp-type empire, and the vultures would just get into a feeding frenzy. Everyone would lose out. You, on the other hand…." He eyed Bruce's expression warily, and then sighed. "If you're that panicked about the whole idea, I can change the will and leave all the voting stock to Wayne Enterprises. It's a bit more nebulous, but between you and Fox, I'd trust you to handle things right."

Bruce relaxed a little. "I'd prefer that, if that's really the way you want to handle things right now."

"It seems like the best solution to me." He smirked up at Bruce, his expression very dry. "You know, one day you're going to have to ditch that dumb playboy act."

"Right now it's serving nicely, Lex, and I'll thank you to let me keep it that way. Do me a favor and please alter that will - because nothing says Lionel couldn't come after me, too, if I was the direct heir. From what you're telling me, it's not past him at the moment, and I really don't need that kind of hassle."

"Okay, okay, I'll see the lawyer as soon as I get back."

"Tomorrow, Lex; I'll bring Walter Carr in from Gotham City, he'll do this for me. It's important. You're about to go incommunicado for a week, if I understood correctly. That's dangerous."

Clark started. "Dangerous?"

Lex tugged on his hand. "Don't listen to him. He's the glass-half-empty type, Clark." There was a strangled choke of laughter from the right, where Dick sat, which he ignored. "Besides, the bottom line is, Dad won't try anything against me if he can't gain from it, and I'm making damn certain he can't."

Clark nodded slowly, though he still looked unhappy.

Alfred arrived with the drinks, which broke the tension somewhat. When he had gone again, Lex had a tumbler of golden whisky, lightly diluted, in his hand, and he smiled at Clark. "Want to taste?" he offered.

Clark took the glass from his hand, and scented the alcohol lightly. Then he took a cautious sip, vaguely aware of the curious stares of his hosts on him. The taste was - unusual. There was a burn, which he guessed was from the alcohol, which he didn't entirely like, but then a complex roll of flavors that he took a moment to identify.

"It tastes like… the sea," he said, perplexed, handing the glass back to Lex.

Lex nodded, visibly pleased. "Yes. It's an Islay, Laphroaig. They all share that hint of iodine. It's because of the water sources in the area. There are several types of whisky, all slightly different."

"That's the best, though?" Clark smiled, knowing Lex only liked the best.

"It's one of my favorites," Lex amended, smiling back. "There are others. The best are all single malts - there are the blended whiskies as well, they tend to be less expensive, and more widespread. There's room for personal choice within all categories. I happen to like that hint of iodine."

Clark ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, catching the last fragments of the savor, then nodded seriously. "I could get used to it."

Lex laughed softly, and reached out across the space between them to ruffle Clark's dark hair affectionately. He slanted a sly glance up at Wayne. "You don't approve." It was neither quite a question, nor a statement.

"Because I don't drink myself? That has nothing to do with it. It's up to Clark what he wants to learn, and what he doesn't."

Lex's smile broadened a little, and he looked back at Clark. "Which is Bruce's way of saying that you shouldn't let yourself get overwhelmed by me."

Clark was surprised. "I don't think I am," he said honestly. "You don't want to change me, I know that," he added, smiling.

"Oh, a few small things. Flannel shirts. Coke at dinner," Lex said airily.

Clark laughed, and there was an echoing laugh from Dick.

"Been there," he grinned. "The Coke at dinner thing, I mean."

Lex raised an intrigued eyebrow at Bruce. "I didn't think you ever paid enough attention to what was put in front of you to care about that."

Bruce looked vaguely embarrassed. "Not me. Alfred."

"You're right about Bruce and food," Dick was sniggering. "Meet the only guy who can mess up tuna mayonnaise. "

Clark gave him a dubious look. "Um - is that possible?"

"It is if you use banana pudding instead of mayo."

"Oh, gross!" Clark exclaimed spontaneously.

Lex smothered his laugh behind one hand.

"It was completely accidental! I was thinking of something else. You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" Bruce said exasperatedly to his ward.

"Not in a million years," the boy crowed.

"Dinner is served," Alfred announced, and looked perplexed when all four of them burst out laughing.

* * *

Lex was reading quietly, comfortably ensconced in an armchair in his room, dressed save for the black dinner jacket still on its stand, when there was a soft knock at the door, and it opened. Clark poked his head around as Lex looked up with a smile.

"Hey," he said warmly. "Ready so soon?" He got up as Clark came into the room, smiling shyly. Lex admired him openly. "You look edible," he said appreciatively.

"Lex!"

Lex chuckled. "Well, you do." He moved up close, and flicked the neatly tied bowtie casually. "I half-expected to have to help you with this."

"Um, well, Alfred did, actually. He just knocked on the door at the right time, I guess."

Lex nodded. "I supposed he's used to that. Still - you can always let me, next time."

Clark nodded, and then took in his lover's appearance. "You look really good in a tux, too, Lex," he said earnestly. "I've always wanted to tell you that."

"It's a flattering style for most men," Lex smiled. "You're going to be beating them off with a stick, though."

Clark ducked his head, not quite blushing. "Yeah, right," he said disbelievingly. Then, more seriously, he asked, "Lex, how are things going to play tonight? I mean, we're ready now, but I'm not hearing cars pull up yet…"

"Bruce has invited a few friends - people he and Dick think of as real friends, that is - for dinner first. Then the rest of the guests will start arriving around nine-thirty, I think. This isn't exactly a party in any sense you've ever known. It'll be more like the function at the museum, remember?"

"I have to, well, keep my distance, though?" he checked.

Lex shrugged, his mouth twisting in a wry smile. "Yeah, pretty much. Or I do, as the case may be. I'm sorry, Clark. It's okay for Bruce and Dick to know. Bruce is completely involved in my plans right now, and he trusts Dick absolutely, so I have to as well. Anyone else, though, is a different proposition. I can't risk folk getting the wrong idea."

"Won't they be curious as to why we're here at all?"

"We can tell a good deal of the truth, Clark. We're friends, it was your birthday recently - they don't need to know we're not going straight back to Smallville tomorrow. I'm known for extravagant gestures. I'm also known for not having many real friends. I think we can make that work for us. I hope, at least." He smiled quirkily. "We've managed to make it work in Smallville for months now - this lot will be much less suspicious. Eccentricity goes with money - Bruce is a prime example. They're used to it."

Clark nodded again. "Okay." He smiled into Lex's eyes. "I'll manage, Lex, I promise."

"I know you will," Lex said simply, and kissed him very lightly.

The gong sounded from downstairs, and Lex collected his jacket, shrugging into it gracefully. "Come on, farmboy," he smiled at Clark, "on with the show."

* * *

Dinner started out looking very formal, set out in a large room Clark hadn't seen before, with a long, mahogany table beautifully arrayed with fine porcelain, crystal and silver, but it soon turned out friendlier than he could have guessed. There were only four other guests; Lucius Fox and his wife, and the Gotham City Police Commissioner, Jim Gordon, and his daughter Barbara, a vivacious redhead a couple of years older than Lex.

Lex was very much the focus of interest. Both Lucius Fox and Commissioner Gordon were evidently well aware of the Luthor reputation, and very curious about Bruce's apparent endorsement of whatever it was Lex was currently up to. Lucius, as Clark had heard for himself weeks ago, was clearly willing to take that at face value and was extremely interested in Lex's potential as a business partner. Mrs. Fox was a little on the outside of all this - she was a schoolteacher, and a charming woman, but she obviously didn't get involved with her husband's business activities.

Barbara Gordon, on the other hand, was also passionately interested and wasn't shy about asking questions. Clark was a little surprised to discover that she was planning on being a librarian, and then was promptly abashed at succumbing to the hoary stereotype that librarians were staid, middle-aged bookworms. Barbara and Dick teased him gently, so he got over it quickly, but he was still surprised that such a bright personality, and someone who was very physically active - Barbara's college sports record as a first-rate athlete came up during the dinner - could be content with what seemed to him like a very hum-drum job.

As he'd suggested in their conversation before coming downstairs, Lex was sticking pretty closely to the facts. His dispute with his father was not public knowledge as yet, but in response to Lucius' discreet inquiries, he replied frankly that he had ceased working for LuthorCorp and was striking out on his own. Bruce's guests seemed to understand implicitly, if in slightly different ways, the implications of that statement, and left it at that, although Lucius then went on to ask Lex about his future projects. Again, Lex was reasonably forthcoming, which then turned into a brisk discussion between the two of them about future developments in nanotechnology. At one point, Lucius was rendered speechless by something Lex aired, and then turned to Bruce.

"Damn, Bruce, do you mind if I hire this man?"

"You can certainly try, Luke, though I don't think you'll get very far," Bruce warned mildly.

Lex chuckled. "Bruce is right. I'm not a team player, Lucius. I like to be my own boss."

"I could promise you an outstanding package, points included, and unlimited facilities, if you're really up to the kind of projects you've just discussed with me," Lucius offered coaxingly.

"I've done my stint of working for someone else. It's time for me to make my own name. That's not to say we can't still do business in some ways - there are always aspects of practical applications that don't interest me especially. I could be persuaded to discuss exclusive licensing arrangements with WayneTech, under the right circumstances."

Lucius grinned. "I expect to be hearing from you pretty soon, then."

* * *

If Lex's presence at dinner had elicited some surprise, it was nothing compared to the stir caused by his presence at the party, and Lex was in his element. About an hour after the official start, Dick was standing beside Clark and they were both watching Lex across the room.

"You know," Dick said quietly, an amused note in his voice, "how I said Lex was slicker than Bruce at this kind of social function? I was understating the case!"

Clark grinned. Lex was enjoying himself, that was perfectly clear to him, though most others would only have seen a display of perfect, urbane, slightly languid manners. "You've never seen him like this before?"

"Yeah, but it was a while back," he admitted, "and I think I was probably too young to understand what I was seeing. This, however - it's quite a sight. He's got them eating out of his hand." He looked up at his companion with a mischievous smirk. "I take it it's familiar to you?"

"Well, he's kind of always 'on' like this in public. Even when the public's just a bunch of high-school kids," Clark acknowledged. "It just varies in degree. I admit," he conceded, smiling, "that this is a bit more intense than I've seen in a while. Last time I was with Lex at what you'd really call a society function, it was at the Metropolis Museum of Art, and he was standing in for his father, basically, so it wasn't quite the same. There wasn't this - this buzz around him."

Dick made a faint sound of agreement, and then smiled a little. "Remind me to thank him later."

"What for?"

"Entertainment value." He grinned at Clark's slight frown. "I'm not making fun of him. He's taking a lot of the social heat off Bruce and me, and I have to admit, he's a real player. Got most of this group wrapped around his little finger. I enjoy watching someone really talented doing what they're best at."

"What he's best at…" Clark began, but Dick shot him a warning look.

"Don't go there, please," he cut him off, in an undertone.

"I was only going to say that what he's best at is a different sort of chemistry - beakers, test tubes, microscopes and all that sort of thing," Clark said innocently.

He laughed. "Okay, you got me there. I apologize. How are you doing, by the way?"

Clark had been introduced to a few people at the start of the evening, but otherwise he had been largely left to fend for himself. He didn't realize it, but his tall, strong frame and dark, good looks had been garnering a considerable degree of attention themselves, and he had not been short of company so far.

"I'm good," he replied, smiling. "Some people are a bit surprised when I say I'm a friend of Lex's, but the 'he ran me over' line seems to satisfy them."

Dick almost inhaled his club soda, laughing. "Oh, yeah," he spluttered, chuckling, "I can see that's a great icebreaker."

"It's true," Clark protested mildly.

"I know, that's what makes it perfect. So, you're coping with this crowd?"

If it was Clark's looks that drew people to him in the first place, his shy good manners tended to hold them there. Truth be told, he was being mothered a little bit by several of the society matrons, who seemed to find his rural background pleasantly quaint and who took it upon themselves to widen his circle of introductions. The condescension was a little irritating, but he could tell there was no malice in it, so he could put up with it, especially as it was only for tonight. On the other hand, there were some people who were - disagreeably insistent, but he wasn't going to bother his hosts with that. He was managing, mostly, to avoid them so far.

"Everything's fine," he said firmly.

He didn't see the spark in the other boy's eyes, indicating that Dick was hearing more than Clark was saying.

"Okay, good. Alfred's giving me the evil eye, which means I need to circulate some more," he sighed, exaggeratedly put-upon. "Catch you later."

* * *

Almost two hours later, with Barbara Gordon tucking her arm familiarly through his, Clark realized that he was being shielded. There were three guests present who made Clark uneasy, invading his personal space, hovering around him whenever they could, whenever he let them get too close, and in this crush it was difficult to keep avoiding them without being too obvious about it. He was determined not to draw the wrong kind of attention to himself, for Lex's sake. However, he now saw that every time things were really getting awkward, someone - Dick, Bruce or, to his surprise, Barbara - had appeared at his side and effortlessly removed either Clark or the other person.

"Um," he said hesitantly, as Barbara walked him down to the other end of the room, "okay, I'm not ungrateful, but I don't think you have to come to my rescue every time. I don't think I've got 'sacrificial lamb' printed on my forehead."

She didn't deny his suggestion. "Well, that's debatable, you know," she teased gently. "Look, Dick and I go way back, ever since he came into this house, actually. I guess he never thought twice about recruiting me, sort of, to help keep an eye on you, because he was getting the impression there were some people here who were making you uncomfortable. So we watched a little, and he was right, wasn't he? There are a few pushy people here, as you've found out, who have a taste for fresh meat, let's say. And you're very fresh meat, Clark."

"Please!" He rolled his eyes.

She chuckled. "Not 'sacrificial', maybe, but definitely 'innocent'. 'Lamb' is good, too," she added brightly. "You're awfully cute." With that, she kissed his cheek lightly and disappeared, laughing, as he turned poppy red.

"Should I be jealous?" a familiar voice drawled lazily behind him.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/000042sa/)

 

He turned to face Lex, trying to suppress the glowing smile that wanted to spread all over his face. He had hardly spoken to his lover since dinner, though he was usually aware of Lex's whereabouts at any given moment - speaking of which….

"Maybe," he returned mildly, recovering from his embarrassment. "If I should be jealous of that really stacked brunette you went off with."

About thirty minutes earlier, he had spotted Lex leaving the ballroom with a lissome and voluptuous woman. She had been sufficiently gorgeous - luscious form poured into a jade-and-gold sheath; glossy, dark curls cascading down her back - for Clark to panic for a second before common sense prevailed. Lex and the woman were gone less than ten minutes. However, if Lex was going to tease him about Barbara Gordon, he felt he was owed a little of his own back.

"That was business, Clark," Lex smiled faintly.

That brought back bad memories. "Business like Victoria was business?" he asked, a little subdued.

Lex's clear gaze met his. "I don't work like that anymore," he said softly.

Clark had regretted his words almost as soon as they had passed his lips. "No, I know, Lex," he said earnestly.

"Besides," Lex added, with a slow smile, "Ms. Kyle doesn't work like that, either - despite her considerable charms."

His tone was teasing now, and Clark grinned. "You have a knack for understatement."

Lex shared his grin swiftly. It was true that the lady in question had been leaving a trail of drooling males in her wake, and was arguably the most spectacular woman present that evening. Lex had received a whole raft of sour looks when they had returned to the ballroom - all of which had been water off a duck's back to the young tycoon. He answered only to one person now. As long as Clark was happy, Lex didn't particularly care what anyone else thought.

Clark was going to ask more about her when a heavy figure intruded into their brief oasis of calm.

"Lex Luthor. I didn't quite believe it when I was told you were here. I've only just arrived myself," a gravelly voice said. The tone was amiable, but there was a touch of speculation to it that was disturbing, Clark thought, and he could see that Lex was on edge, too.

The man was Lex's height, but very corpulent, though the body looked fairly solid. He was in his fifties, white-haired, with fleshy features and pale, almost transparent, blue eyes. Clark was faintly reminded of Brando in The Freshman, except less benign. Maybe Jabba the Hutt in a tuxedo was a better description. Lex took a moment to identify him.

"Mr. Thorne," he said eventually, his tone quite neutral. "We haven't met in a very long time."

"That's right, you'd have been about twelve," the older man agreed. "Since when does LuthorCorp do business with Wayne Enterprises?"

"It's a social call, Mr. Thorne." Catching the flick of the pale eyes towards Clark, Lex introduced them, hoping his reluctance wasn't showing. "This is Clark Kent. Clark, Rupert Thorne, one of Gotham City's major businessmen."

Thorne shook Clark's hand with vague civility, and then clearly dismissed him, returning his focus to Lex.

"Men trained as you've been don't just pay social calls. It's always business. So it's true, what I've been hearing? There's trouble in LuthorCorp, then? You're breaking away?"

Lex watched him for a moment, weighing his answers. "I have my own plans, Mr. Thorne. Don't expect any significant weakening in LuthorCorp, though. Its future hardly depends on me."

"You were its future, Lex. At least, that's what your father always implied."

"You haven't been talking to him lately, then."

"You didn't take his grandstanding seriously," Thorne said dismissively. "If you had, you wouldn't be branching out on your own." He chuckled. "God, I'd have liked to see the old jackal's face when you broke the news." His gaze sharpened. "You always struck me as an interesting boy, Lex. I've been following your career closely. I think you're rash to dump the power base that LuthorCorp represents, but I don't think you'd do that without good reason. However, you're foolish to look for support from Wayne. There are other business partners you'd find a great deal more… enterprising than Lucius Fox is prepared to be."

Lex watched him, his face impassive. "I'll bear your comments in mind when the time comes, Mr. Thorne. For the moment, I truly am on vacation."

Thorne's eyes narrowed, but then he laughed, a thick, oily sound that sent unpleasant reverberations up Clark's spine. "Have it your way, boy. The offer'll stand for a while yet."

They watched him amble away, both disturbed.

"He sees it as a power play," Lex said softly, "not as a change."

Clark suddenly understood Lex's unease, and moved a step closer to him. He didn't dare hold him, not the way he wanted to.

"He's like your father. He doesn't understand that you've really got your own agenda now."

"No, Clark, he's much worse than my father."

"Who is he, then?"

"Rupert Thorne? He owns the other half of Gotham. The half Bruce doesn't want to own. You know when some people get described as being in the import/export business?" he queried.

Clark nodded. That usually meant some sort of connection to organized crime.

"That's Thorne," Lex said.

"What's he doing here?" Clark asked, astonished. "Surely Bruce doesn't want anything to do with him?"

"No, I don't," Bruce's deep voice sounded from behind them. "However, this isn't about friends, Clark. 'Friends' was dinner, earlier tonight, and Dick's real party back in December. This is a social calendar event, and as such, there are some people one just has to invite. Usually, though, they don't bother showing up, any more than I do in response to their invitations. That's the way we do things."

Lex closed his eyes fleetingly. "I'm sorry, Bruce. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I think he really did come here for me."

"I think you're probably right," Bruce said calmly.

"He implied I'd find a partnership with him more lucrative than with you."

Bruce looked at him. "That would depend on how you want to do business."

Lex returned the look, a little sardonically. "I've already told you, I'm no saint. That, however," he tilted his head slightly in the direction in which Thorne had left, "becoming a Thorne, is a step I'm not prepared to take. Even Dad prefers to keep his hands clean."

"It's what I was always afraid of, with you," Bruce said bluntly. "That in your need to best Lionel, you might take that step too far."

Lex was silent for a moment, then shrugged. "Yes. I might have. There was a time when that was all there was; getting the better of Dad, by any means. That's changed. Then, I had nothing to lose. Now, there's everything." He looked up at Clark briefly, eyes bright with emotion. "Everything," he repeated softly.

The moment passed, and he brushed Clark's arm fleetingly. "I'm going to do one last round, and then call it a night. You remember we've got an early flight tomorrow?"

"Six-thirty - it's not that early," Clark said, faux-innocent.

"Farmboys," Lex sighed.

Clark grinned. "You're just not a morning person. Still, it's a good idea. I'll say good night to Dick and Barbara and a couple of other folk, and do the same."

"See you in the morning, Clark," Bruce said.

When Lex would have followed Clark back into the crowd, Bruce held him back a moment longer.

"Speaking of undesirable acquaintances, Lex, Selina Kyle's a borderline case."

Lex's eyes narrowed. "Do you have eyes in the back of your head, Bruce?"

"Something like that," the older man said calmly. "You do know who she is?"

"Of course I do. I wasn't expecting to meet her, if that's what you're asking." He sighed a little as Bruce continued to study him. "I've discovered that certain people are holding certain documents that could prove harmful. Not to me, but to Clark. I'm not prepared to tolerate that for long, and I've heard - well, you might say, good reports about her modus operandi."

Bruce gave him a hard look. "Are you sure you had no other options?"

"Nothing as efficient, nor as likely to avoid additional fall-out," Lex said bluntly.

"You've still got a shaky grasp of ethics, Lex."

"On the contrary, my grasp is excellent. It's what I choose to do about it that can be a little shaky still. Look, don't get on my case about this. It's a one-time job; neither she nor I are going to be hurting anybody, and she'll be helping me protect the only person I really give a damn about. I'm sorry if you disapprove, but it's the cleanest solution I could think of, and that's all I'm going to say on the subject. Good night, Bruce."

* * *

It was about forty minutes later when he went up to his room. At the door, he hesitated, looking across the passage. There was still light under Clark's door, and Lex could see a shadow moving around. Clark was probably finishing packing up. With some part of his mind that sounded suspiciously like his father lecturing him on being foolishly weak, Lex crossed the passage and knocked on Clark's door.

It opened a second or two later, and Clark was there, smiling, in boxers and T-shirt, ready for bed. He stood aside for Lex to come in.

"I thought you said…" he began teasingly.

"I know, I know," Lex smiled ruefully. "I thought you'd worked it out by now. It's almost always 'do what I say, not what I do'. If you'd been asleep, I wouldn't have bothered you."

"You never bother me, Lex."

He held out his arms, and Lex came into them, wrapping his own arms about the strong, young body, and burying his face against Clark's neck. Clark hugged him tightly, nuzzling against his ear gently, and feeling the lean frame relax completely against his own.

"Is everything okay?" he asked softly, after a couple of minutes.

Lex's lips were soft against his jaw line. "It is now," he replied, sounding contented.

A minute more, and Lex straightened up, pulling back a little. Clark let him go, but he didn't move back right away. Lex brushed an errant curl back from his forehead and then stroked his cheek gently.

"Good night, farmboy," he said tenderly, and left.

**End Chapter Seven**


	8. The Oak and the Cypress (08/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 8 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 5807  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Although it was less than twenty miles from the airport to their destination, the state of some of the road was such that it still took Lex a good half-hour to make the drive. Of course, he wasn't going nearly as fast as he might have back home, but these weren't deserted country lanes, and he had better things to do with his time than debate speeding tickets with French gendarmes. Clark, who had remained awake throughout the flight while Lex dozed against his shoulder, put his head back, slouched down as far as his long legs permitted, and promptly fell asleep, to Lex's amusement.

It was a little after six in the evening when they pulled up in front of the luxurious villa. Light was fading, caught in that magical hour between sunset and nightfall, and the sea shimmered with a soft luminescence before them. It had been several years since Lex had been here, and he was both pleased and relieved to see that the place had lost none of its charm. He nudged Clark gently.

"Hey, sleepyhead, we're here."

Clark smiled lazily. "That was quick."

"Why waste any more time in traveling than necessary? Come on, let's get settled in."

"Where are we?" he asked, getting out of the car.

"I'll explain when you see the view properly," Lex smiled.

Clark raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue, and looked around instead. The villa was a broad, one-level building, with white, stuccoed walls, a warm, red-tiled roof, and light green shutters over the windows. The front door was recessed in a small terrace, a big wooden door embossed with cast iron studs in the Spanish style. The front yard was mainly paved, but the attractively arranged plant-beds held large bushes with glossy, dark-green leaves on which clustered buds were starting to appear, and small trees lined the low white wall marking the boundary. Beyond that, he was looking up at hills covered either with scrubby-looking trees, or else terraced into vineyards, which rose steeply around them. He could see other houses, both individual villas and compact apartment blocks, but they had no immediate neighbors, and no one overlooking them directly.

Inside, the house was all cool, white walls and terracotta-tiled floors, airy and spacious. The furnishings were simple but elegant and, Clark guessed, expensive; dark wood furniture, again in the Spanish style, against which the thoroughly up-to-date home theater should have looked incongruous, but didn't, walls tastefully decorated with pottery and ironwork, and richly colored woolen rugs warming the tiled floors. The main feature of the living/dining room, however, was the floor-to-ceiling picture window, and as Lex drew back the blinds covering it, Clark's eyes widened in wonder at the exposed view. Lex, watching him, smiled a little, pushed back the sliding panel to give access to the large terrace, and encouraged Clark to go out.

The terrace was the full length of the villa, and some thirty feet deep, bordered by a waist-high privet hedge most of the way, and a decorative iron railing about ten feet wide set in the center, to expose the sudden drop of the land beneath them. There was a good-sized pool to the left, and white-painted iron garden furniture to the right, and the whole area was set with attractive, patterned, blue-and-white tiles. Apart from the hedge, the only other plants were several small lemon trees growing in large, painted ceramic pots.

The hills enclosing them from the rear now seemed to tumble joyfully down in front of them into the dusky blue sea, and in the neatly enclosed bay nestled a small town. Ochre or white houses with red roofs clustered around a massive castle that protected the bay and divided the town naturally into two halves, each with its own substantial beach. A little marina at the foot of the castle walls held a dozen or so fishing boats as well as a few pleasure boats, and at the other end of that particular beach sat a curious church, with a round, red-capped bell-tower that looked for all the world…

"Is that a lighthouse?" Clark asked, intrigued.

Lex came up behind his young lover, wrapping his arms around Clark's waist and resting his chin on one broad shoulder.

"It was, a very long time ago. Now the lighthouse is over there. See, at the end of the mole?"

"I see." He was entranced by the picturesque setting, made even more romantic by the slowly fading light, and the gradual illumination of the village's streets and windows. "It's beautiful, Lex. Where are we?"

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/00005td1/)

 

"The village is called Collioure," Lex said, smiling at Clark's delighted tone. "It's very old, actually; the Phoenicians were using this place as a harbor back in about the 6th century B.C. Then everybody else and his neighbor passed through here; the Greeks, the Romans, the Visigoths, the Saracens, you name it. There was a long settled period, when it basically belonged to Spain, and that's when the Order of Templars built the castle, early 13th century. It was prized territory, a very sheltered harbor facing due east out into the Mediterranean. Popular with the pirates, too," he chuckled, "hence all the fortifications. Look up there." From behind Clark, he pointed up to the hills again, and Clark could make out the silhouettes of two other fortresses, plus what was obviously a watchtower, on the crests of several of them.

"We are still in France, right?" he queried, slightly confused by the talk of Spain.

"We're in French Catalonia," Lex clarified. "It was part of the territory ceded to France in the Treaty of the Pyrenees in, oh, 1659, I think, but they're not completely French here, not by a long shot. Spain's about ten miles away just down the coast, and Barcelona's less than a hundred miles. You'll hear in the streets, they speak Catalan here in preference to French amongst themselves. Anyway, after France and Spain settled their differences, and piracy became less common, Collioure settled down as a fishing village, and then it got rediscovered at the turn of the 20th century when some subsequently very famous painters fell in love with it and started a whole new art movement."

He sounded slightly mocking - Lex had little patience for fads, except to exploit them - but Clark felt he understood a little how the painters must have felt.

"I can see why," he said, taking in the deepening purple tints of the gathering darkness. "I bet the painters still come."

"Oh, yes. There's no lack around town. Quite a few galleries, too, as I recall, for the more serious artists. The fishing's pretty much shifted to Port Vendres, which is the next town along towards Spain, and has a much deeper harbor, so Collioure basically lives on the tourist industry now. I'm pleased to see it hasn't become just a big block of concrete, though," he added approvingly. "At least somebody's exercising some planning control."

"You're such a cynic," Clark chided lightly. "It's just so pretty, Lex. It's almost unreal."

Lex chuckled, and pressed a kiss into the curve of Clark's neck. "I'm glad you like it."

"I do. Are the beaches real? I mean, can you swim off them?"

"Yes, but it's a little early in the year, even with fine weather. Unless you really like cold baths?" he queried doubtfully. "Besides which, we have a nice, heated swimming pool right here, a great view, and complete privacy," he added coaxingly.

Clark grinned. "Let me guess - you plan on going skinny-dipping. Seems you have a thing about that," he teased.

"Clever boy," Lex smirked.

"Smartass," Clark returned affectionately.

The nature of their relationship was shifting, ever so gently. They were more open with each other, the irritation that had been the knowledge that each was concealing deep secrets beginning to dissipate as their physical relationship grew increasingly intimate.

"It's a rite of passage," Lex defended lightly.

"Skinny-dipping?" Clark laughed. "No, I don't think so. You don't have to be sixteen for that, kids do it all the time."

"Not in any way I have in mind. For which, by the way, you had better really be sixteen," Lex added dryly, detaching himself from Clark with another quick kiss to his neck and heading back into the villa.

Clark chuckled a little, following him. "Come on, Lex - if anything, I'm older. I can't help what age my folks picked to put on my birth certificate, and I'll probably never find out exactly how old I am, anyway. Do I really look sixteen to you? I haven't been carded for over a year. So, yeah, I'm sixteen, officially, at any rate. Which is all that matters, right?"

"You have a point," Lex conceded, amused, but added lightly, "I'll be happier once I get the papers regarding your adoption away from my father."  
The sudden stillness behind him brought him around sharply. Clark was staring at him, visibly shocked.

"Your father has copies of my adoption papers?" he asked faintly.

Lex studied him. "I take it you had no idea." Clark shook his head mutely. "They're not copies, they're the originals, I'm pretty sure of that. I caught sight of them just after the hostage business at the plant. You remember I had to go back to Metropolis for a couple of days while Dad made the most of the hoopla?" Clark nodded, still mute. "They were in with his private papers. Some other stuff I'd have liked to get a closer look at, too, but your name kind of stood out."

"Why…?"

"I was hoping you might know," Lex said simply. "Obviously, it's something I'm going to have to ask your parents about - once they get used to me," he added, with a touch of wry humor.

"Chloe said she'd fixed a couple of things about my adoption records…" Clark supplied faintly.

Lex raised an eyebrow. "Did she? You should try to get details. Not that I doubt her skills, you've told me a thing or two about that already," he smiled a little. "However, the electronic records wouldn't stand up against hard copies, and I'm not happy at the idea that Dad could be holding those. So - I've made arrangements."

Clark knew that tone. "Lex? What have you done?"

"I'm going to have them stolen from him. There's no other way - believe me, I've considered all the other options."

"Lex…!"

"Sometimes you have to take desperate measures. We're talking basic breaking and entering here, Clark - well, not so basic, knowing Dad's security systems, but nothing more, I swear it."

"It's still illegal!"

"Damn it, farmboy, _you're_ illegal, and I'm not talking about your age here! You don't exist without those papers, do you? If they're not put in order - which Dad, let me point out, has clearly scrupulously avoided doing for the last twelve years, for whatever reasons - I'm assuming there's some sort of history between your parents, most likely your father, given his reactions, and mine - then they leave all of you wide open for trouble." He ran his hands over his head, locking his fingers around the back of his neck, eyes tight closed for a moment. "Look, Clark, I think we need to have that talk now. Not just for the sake of our relationship, but also because you can't go on pretending that I don't know! Because I do. Maybe not the exact details, but you know I'm not stupid, and I've pieced more than enough of it together."

Clark went very pale. "Lex…"

He looked at him, his expression a little pained. "Clark - what is it that you're afraid of? You can't imagine that I intend you any harm. I've known there was something different about you from the day we met, and the last months have done nothing but confirm that. The only incident that I still find completely bizarre is when you ended up in the hospital, and I'm hoping you'll explain that." He paused, but Clark was studying the tiles beneath his feet intently. Lex went on. "I understand totally that it's not something you want known. I can just imagine the kind of circus you'd have to live through, at best, and at worst, the interest from government or other agencies, which could quickly turn abusive. I can help protect you from that, and I will, but I don't believe you don't already know all that. So what, exactly, is it that's holding you back?"

Clark was silent for a long moment before responding. "What is it you think I am, Lex?"

Lex wanted to go to him, and hold him, but this was serious, and he judged it better to keep his distance for the moment.

"Well - at first I figured you for another Smallville meteor mutant. If my guesses were correct, though, the sheer range of abilities you demonstrated didn't fit the pattern. Then, well, I talked to Eddie Cole. Remember, the guy I was told had seen something else come down along with the meteors? We did find something in Baker's Field."

Clark looked at him, startled. "What?"

Lex went to his bags and fished inside, pulling out a rectangular box. "Since the analyses have been completed, I keep it with me all the time." He passed it over to Clark.

Clark, expressionless, opened the box and took out a small, octagonal piece of metal, turning it over in his hands to examine it closely.

"I think you've already figured out that Dr. Hamilton's working for me," Lex said calmly. "He is - though he has a tendency to go off on side-tracks I didn't authorize. I hired him to investigate the meteorites. I want to know what they are, and what effect they have exactly - on all sorts of things, not just people." He smiled wryly, fleetingly. "They're growing crops there, who knows what kind of effect the meteor radiation is having on that, long term, for pity's sake? I did not authorize the Nicodemus experiments - I knew nothing about that 'til it blew up in my face - and I'm certainly not letting Hamilton anywhere near you. I am still interested in his results. That little piece of metal - the likes of which simply doesn't exist anywhere else on Earth, and which is quite obviously tooled - in the midst of a major meteor strike, combined with that report about some sort of ship landing - a ship, or whatever, which was categorically missing a few hours later - I can't let that go. So now, I'm thinking that it's more directly connected to you than I first imagined," he finished gently, because Clark was clearly getting very distressed. "Clark - if you're not a mutant, then… you simply come from, well, elsewhere. The same elsewhere that piece of metal comes from, if I'm right."

Clark gave him a strange look. "You're… okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Lex asked, genuinely perplexed.

"I - I was afraid, once you knew… "

"Afraid of what?" Lex prompted.

"That - that you'd hate me, because I brought the meteors," Clark whispered, misery etched all over his face, "or that you'd think I was a freak…"

Lex had to take a moment to stop himself from laughing out loud. He had a feeling that wouldn't go down well at this particular moment. Instead, he waited a beat, and then said simply, "Well, join the club."

Clark looked up sharply. "What?"

"You heard me. Why on earth would I react negatively to you being alien? I've been labeled a freak for twelve years, remember? Not to mention the last few months in Smallville, of which you have unquestionably been the most normal thing there! As for causing the meteor shower - you were just a baby, Clark. Even if you were actually conscious of what was happening, which I doubt you were, you hardly waved your hands and said, 'Let there be meteors!' It was probably more like some sort of projectile effect, that's my guess. If you're going to be difficult about it, we can go through the data when we get home. So - let's not mess around with secrets anymore here, please? I am going to get those papers out of my father's hands. Whatever his reason for holding them, I'm sure it can't be good. The job will be done discreetly and without damage, if the party I contracted is even half as good as her reputation. Oh, and while I'm confessing," he added wryly, "you might as well know that the lady in question is also going to be visiting Roger Nixon's home and office."

"The journalist? I thought you said you'd told him to lay off."

"I did. He didn't," Lex said succinctly. "Or so I gather. I've had reports that he's been seen around your farm and other places. Most particularly, on the funfair grounds the night Lana was kidnapped by Deputy Watts." He eyed Clark curiously when the other boy went pale. "I take it he'd definitely have seen something interesting?"

Clark nodded. "Watts shot me. Point blank, four or five times."

Lex's eyes widened, then he sighed. "Well, that would interest Roger, all right. Just as well I'd already made up my mind."

"Lex, stealing his papers isn't going to dissuade him, if he was ignoring you."

"I know that," he looked amused. "Roger's about to be made an offer he can't refuse. Believe me, it's way too generous for him, but he's persistent at his job, I'll give him that."

"What if he does refuse?"

"It's extremely unlikely, Clark. If he did, no media group would ever take him seriously again. He'd pretty well be out of a job, and he'll know that. I'm not having him exiled to Outer Siberia, trust me; he'll be going to a much better paid job with a lot of very nice perks and a good 401K plan thrown in. However, it's one that will take him a long way from Kansas, and keep him too busy to interfere in my affairs for a long time to come. Without his documentary evidence, he's got nothing to go on. I think he'll get the point."

"Aren't you risking something with the - the burglar?" Clark asked hesitantly.

"She is not, by all accounts, into blackmail, as long as she gets what she's been promised - and she will. I'm not concerned about what she might read in those papers, she's tangled with things just as strange as anything Smallville can produce, from what I've heard. She probably won't even look beyond ascertaining that it's what she was sent to retrieve."

Clark nodded, silent, lost in his own thoughts. Lex watched him carefully, unsure as to what was going on in the boy's head.

"Clark? Are you regretting this?" he asked somberly.

"What? No. No!" he exclaimed passionately, and in two strides he was beside Lex, hands up as if he wanted to hold him or touch him, but let them fall, hesitant. Then he suddenly knelt and wrapped his arms around Lex's waist, burying his face against the young man's firm stomach. Surprised, Lex put one hand on his shoulder and buried the other in the thick, dark hair, stroking gently.

"Clark."

"You're…. I cause so much trouble," Clark said, his voice muffled.

Lex twined the silken strands through his fingers lovingly. "Worth every second of it," he said tenderly.

They stayed like that for a while longer, then Lex smiled faintly, still stroking the black hair. "You know," he said conversationally, "you've got to get over this beating yourself up over everything business. You're setting me a bad example. If this is the result of having a conscience, I'm not so sure it seems like such a good idea."

The tone was urbane and innocent, but Lex's gaze, as he studied the dark head beneath his hands, glinted with mischief.

There was a kind of surprised hiccup, and then a stifled laugh, and Clark looked up, half-amused, half-outraged. "Lex! That's a ridiculous thing to say!"

Lex sniggered. "I think that, after the blushes, that's the next best thing I like about you. The way you say my name when I've managed to shock you…"

Clark was on his feet in a flash, and his arms wrapped tightly around Lex, and there was a defiant light in his blue eyes. "The second best thing, huh? I think I need to get you to reorganize your priorities."

"Be my guest," Lex teased wickedly.

* * *

Time had lost any meaning for them. They hadn't opened the shutters before falling into bed, so there was no way of telling exactly what time it was, only that the room was still dark when Lex stirred again. His breath caught as he registered all the sweet aches in his body, and his lips curved in a satisfied smile. It had been a very long time since he'd felt this good. He reached across Clark to turn on the little alabaster lamp that served as a night-light. As he moved, the arms wrapped around him tightened, and there was a faint sound of protest, so Lex relaxed right back into the possessive embrace as soon as he had thumbed the switch. His smile grew broader.

"I never figured you for a pushy bottom," he breathed smugly into Clark's ear.

There was an unintelligible grunt, and then Clark uncoiled himself a little from around Lex. One blue eye cracked open to regard him with mild suspicion.

"Wha'sa pushy bo'om?"

"You are."

"Leeexx…" Clark pouted.

Lex chuckled. "Exactly."

"You're being obscure." It came out rather clearer.

"A pushy bottom, my dear Clark, is someone who prefers to be fucked, but rather than lying back and taking it, actively demands it. Not to mention pouting adorably if he's refused."

The other blue eye opened slyly. "You never refused. Besides, I seem to recall it went both ways."

"Oh, it certainly did. I like it both ways, and I wasn't going to be deprived of the feel of that beautiful cock of yours up my ass! You, on the other hand, definitely like being on the bottom."

"You're surprised?" Clark smiled lazily, coming awake more clearly now, and shifting a little so he could look into Lex's face better.

"I took you for a pure - if somewhat repressed - alpha male," Lex smirked. Courtesy of Jonathan, he might have added, if he hadn't preferred not to introduce Clark's father into this intimate setting

"Instead?"

"Oh, you're alpha, all right. However, the testosterone level isn't quite as high as six-foot-three of corn-fed muscle would suggest," Lex answered slyly, running his hand over Clark's biceps caressingly.

"This is a bad thing?"

"I didn't say that."

"So?"

Lex broke into honest laughter. "So - you're going to kill me with pleasure. I'm wondering if I'll ever be able to satisfy you completely."

Clark smiled indulgently at him, and leaned down to nuzzle at his bare head. "I'm satisfied."

Lex flexed like a cat into his embrace. "Do you know we've been fucking for over twenty-four hours? Well, fucking and sleeping, but not much else."

For the first time, Clark seemed to become aware of the surroundings, and registered it was night. "Nah, it's still dark."

In answer, Lex reached for his watch and dangled it in front of Clark's nose. With an exasperated look, the boy took it and squinted in the soft light to read the date and time figures. His eyes widened dramatically.

"Shit! Lex…!"

Lex laughed, and Clark buried his head in the pillow, scarlet.

"I can't believe that," he mumbled.

"Mmh - if you were aching like I am, you would," Lex chuckled.

He hadn't anticipated the effect of those words on Clark. The other boy sat up suddenly, alarm in his face.

"Lex! You're hurt?"

Lex put calming hands on his arms. "Whoa, whoa, don't get wound up like that. No, I'm not hurt. I ache, but in a good way. Sort of a lots-of-unaccustomed-exercise way. Not that you'd know what that means, either, but it's quite pleasant, really. Though I will need more rest."

Clark still looked a little guilty. "Maybe a hot bath would help…"

"Clark! This is not abnormal. We've been indulging in strenuous sex for hours and hours. It's quite usual to feel a little - tender."

Lex sat up, too, though carefully, concealing the wince as his ass reminded him that despite Clark's preference for the submissive position, he was perfectly capable of administering a royal fucking when appropriately stimulated. Not that Clark was exactly submissive, or hadn't been after his first, ecstatic introduction to the joys of being well and truly laid. Lex could not suppress the smile as he looked at his young lover.

"What?" Clark demanded, reluctantly smiling back. Lex had a rather wicked look to him.

Lex laughed suddenly, and pounced, pushing Clark back into the thoroughly ruined bedding and straddling him triumphantly.

"What?" Clark demanded again, laughing up at him.

Lex kissed him soundly. "Such an eager virgin," he teased. "The look on your face when you first felt me in you…"

Clark's smile grew sultry, and his arms came around Lex, but just as he was drawing Lex's reawakening body in closely, there was the unmistakable sound of a hungry stomach deciding to make its presence felt. The two gaped at each other, then collapsed into helpless giggles, Lex burying his face against Clark's neck. The mood was definitely broken.

"Was that you or me?" Lex snorted.

"Um, both of us, I think," Clark chuckled, "but maybe more me. I hope there's some food in the kitchen; we're not getting anything delivered at this time of night."

"There'll be food," Lex said confidently, peeling himself off Clark. "I left instructions for the caretakers." He slid out of the bed. "I think a shower is called for first, though," he added a little ruefully. He laughed, a rare, happy sound coming from him that had Clark smiling in response. "Here I thought I knew what wild sex was all about!"

Clark, sitting up, reached out to stroke one lean, pale hip with a sure caress that was part appreciative and part possessive. "Was that wild sex? It felt just right to me."

Lex let the strong fingers on his hip draw him in again, and gave a little sigh of pure contentment when Clark pressed his face to Lex's belly, nuzzling there contentedly. He wrapped his fingers in the black silk of Clark's hair and sighed with pleasure.

"You smell good," Clark mumbled.

Lex chuckled a little. "I find that hard to believe. Sex and sweat…"

Clark pressed a kiss to his firm stomach, and Lex could feel the full lips curving in a smile. "Uh-huh. You smell… real."

He tugged lightly on the black curls. "Ah, I forgot I'm talking to a farmboy here," he teased.

Clark looked up, grinning. "That's right. Right at home with all-natural organic scents." He laughed when Lex, pretending outrage, pushed him back onto the bed and headed off to the bathroom. Clark sat up again and reached for his jeans, calling out. "Hey, don't I get to share with you?"

"No," Lex said firmly. "Shower sex is something that can wait for when we're fully recharged." He looked back over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

Clark gave him a curious look. "Getting dressed?"

"Why?"

"Um, because that's what you usually do when you get out of bed?"

Lex gave a patient sigh. "Clark, no one else here but your lover, private grounds, no neighbors for half a mile, middle of the night, shuttered windows, central heating…? Clothing is strictly optional, and as far as I'm concerned, its only advantage is the fun I get peeling you out of it."

Clark blushed hotly - all over, judging by Lex's parting smirk as he vanished into the shower. Clark sat there for a moment or two longer, wondering whether he should dress or not. Lex, it seemed, had opted for not, and was clearly perfectly comfortable with his nudity. Lex was - perfect, Clark thought dotingly, and closed his eyes as images of Lex's lean, pale body spread out beneath him engulfed him again.

Lovers - they were lovers, in every sense of the word. It was like a dream come true. The sex had been a thousand times better than his wildest imagination, and he rather suspected that Lex still had a few things to teach him. In between those hot, sticky, sweaty, satisfying couplings, they had just held each other, hands caressing lightly, sometimes in silence, sometimes talking, wrapped up in tenderness and each other. Clark had confessed all his secrets, all the strange abilities he had, as well as the fear and confusion that had come with their revelation. Lex had talked of his past, often painfully, and sometimes angrily, while Clark held him tightly, offering his silent absolution. Clark flopped back onto the bed, love and desire and sweet hunger flooding through him again. He was barely aware that he was stroking himself idly until the orgasm surged over him and he came with a sharp gasp. By this time, there wasn't much left in his balls, but he still managed a few spurts.

"Should I even be asking what you were thinking about?" came the lazy drawl from the bathroom doorway.

Too contentedly sated even to blush, Clark opened his eyes and turned his head in that direction. Lex lounged in the doorway, still naked, skin flushed a soft pink from the shower, his trademark smirk hovering on his lips, his eyes heavy-lidded and gleaming silver in the dim light.

"Lex?"

"Yeah?" His tone was warily amused.

"If you want to eat, I suggest you get your ass in the kitchen right now, before I drag you back into bed."

Lex grinned, but did as Clark suggested. The teenager lazed a moment more, then hearing the sounds of cupboard doors opening and shutting in the kitchen, stirred himself to get up. He reached for the jeans again, but grinned to himself and left them. Then he had another thought, and went looking in the closets. They still had to unpack properly - consummating their relationship had driven all other thoughts from their heads - but as he had hoped, he found several changes of linen for the bed. Using his super-speed, he stripped the stained and tangled sheets from their bed and made it up fresh. There was a laundry hamper in the bathroom, into which he dumped the soiled sheets, and then he took his own shower.

When he had done, he found, a little sheepishly, that he wasn't quite capable of wandering around stark naked as Lex was. He wrapped a towel around his waist and padded out to the kitchen. The oven was on, and Lex was standing at the counter by the fridge adding something to a large, glass salad bowl. Clark came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Lex's waist.

"Like the apron," he murmured approvingly, toying lightly with the red-edged linen cloth that was the only thing covering Lex.

Lex smiled, tipping his head back for a moment, and Clark promptly nuzzled at the exposed column of his throat, eliciting a low, pleased purr from him.

"I found some garlic pizza bread in the freezer," he said, "so I thought a mixed salad, and the bread. Do you want something other than vegetables in the salad?"

"Like what?"

"Oh - there's ham and eggs in the fridge - though it'll take another ten minutes to hard-boil the eggs. Crab sticks. There are cans - new potatoes, tuna…"

"No tuna," Clark said firmly. "I've kind of gone off tuna for the time being, I think."

Lex chuckled. "I'm not likely to mix up banana pudding and mayonnaise, you know."

"Still…."

"Okay, no tuna tonight. What else did I see? Salmon, anchovies - there would be, it's something of a local specialty…"

"I've never tasted anchovies, you know that? Just about everyone I know makes a face when you mention them, so I never tried. Are they that bad?"

"Not in my opinion; I like them. Though you don't need too many. Anchovy and potato is good in a salad. Goes well with the garlic bread, too."

"I could try that."

Lex looked at him. "We'll try a little experiment first. Once you put stuff into the mixing bowl, it's pretty well impossible to get it out."

He wriggled a little, so Clark let him go, and went to an adjacent cupboard, pulling out a can and a small jar. He opened and drained the can, and twisted off the jar lid, then extracted an anchovy on the point of a knife and laid it on the chopping board. He cut a small square of the fish, and then got a fork to get a potato from the tin, which he then cut in half. He set the piece of anchovy on top of the half-potato, and picked up the morsel.

"Open wide," he teased.

Clark rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth, and Lex popped the bite onto his tongue. Clark closed his mouth and considered the flavors he tasted. The anchovy was very salty, certainly, but the mild blandness of the potato palliated that, leaving a sea-tang that was - really quite nice.

"That's not bad at all," he said, after swallowing. "What's all the fuss about?"

"I think it's folk getting a mouthful of the things all at once," Lex hypothesized. "Like I said, you don't need too much at once, not of the canned kind."

"There are others?"

"Sure. Fresh, of course, that's a completely different thing. Then there's salt anchovies - that's different, too. That's the real specialty here. A pain in the neck to prepare," he smiled wryly, "but kind of halfway in between canned and fresh. We'll get some of the good ones in town, and you can try them. They're really nice with roasted peppers. Okay, then - anchovy and potato in the salad?"

"Sure."

"Good. Now, go make yourself useful and find the dishes to set the table."

Clark looked around the kitchen, and focused his eyesight to check the contents of cupboards and drawers. In seconds, he had found the plates and silverware, and went unerringly to the appropriate cupboard. It was only as he brought two settings back to the table that he registered Lex staring at him.

"What?" he asked, perplexed.

"Clark, did you just look through all the doors to find the plates?"

Clark nodded.

"Is that how you found the receiver at the castle, back in January?"

"Uh-huh."

Lex stared at him a moment longer, then just smiled faintly. "Cool," he said, and turned back to cutting up the potatoes.

Clark sniggered. "Did you just say 'cool'?"

"I leave 'wow' for you. " The smirk was audible.

"Smartass," Clark said fondly.

"Farmboy. "

He'd never hear that the same way again. Lex said it like "love".

 

**End Chapter Eight**


	9. The Oak and the Cypress (09/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 9 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 5903  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER NINE**

As promised, Clark was back home at six on Sunday evening. It was all he could do to step out of the truck.

"Lex…" he said in a low, unhappy tone.

Lex kept his hands firmly on the steering wheel, but his eyes were as expressive as any touch could have been.

"I know," he said, equally quietly. "This is the test, Clark. It's going to be quite some time before we can be together safely. Everything has to look normal."

Clark squared his shoulders. "I can do this for you. I love you."

He was transfixed by the heated passion of Lex's clear gaze.

Eventually, Lex just said, "I'll call you. Not tonight, though. Tonight is for your folks."

Clark stood watching the taillights of the truck until they were no longer visible even to his enhanced vision. Then he turned towards his home. Only then did he realize that his parents were waiting on the porch for him, both of them looking concerned. He smiled weakly, and trudged towards them.

They said nothing at first, merely flanked him until they were inside. Then his mother touched his arm gently.

"Clark, honey…?"

He turned wide blue eyes towards her, joy and pain warring in their vivid depths. "I've been in paradise, Mom. How do you come back from that?"

She simply folded him in her arms, as he came to an abrupt, agonizing realization of what the next weeks and months would mean, in terms of his separation from Lex. He was very subdued for the rest of the evening.

* * *

The next day, when he got home from the first day of the summer term, there was a cellular phone sitting on the kitchen table, with a sealed envelope alongside it. Clark knew immediately where it came from, and cast a wary glance at his father.

"I'm not giving it back," he said defensively, "not this time."

"I beg your pardon?" Jonathan said, astonished.

"I said, not this time. This isn't a gift. Or it's not just a gift. Lex and I won't be able to see each other privately for a very long time, so we need to be able to at least talk privately. You really don't want to hear what Lex and I have to say to each other," he added with gentle firmness.

Jonathan stared at him for a moment, then colored hotly, made a vague assenting noise, and disappeared. Martha clucked her tongue at her son.

"That was unkind of you. He let you go off together; he wasn't planning on objecting to a little thing like a phone. You don't need to get in his face about your relationship with Lex, though. You should know he's still uncomfortable with that, even if he's becoming resigned to it."

"I know, Mom," he sighed, "but it was the truth all the same. You don't exactly want to hear our conversations, either, you know. If Lex and I can't share a bed right now, we're going to resort to… other methods. So," he picked up the phone and the note, "if you'll excuse me for a bit?"

"Homework, Clark!" she called out, trying again for a semblance of normalcy

"Yes, Mom."

In the relative privacy of the loft, he opened the note. All it held was a number and the instructions booklet for the phone. He spent a little time setting the time and date, and programming the number Lex had written into Speed Dial #1, and then called it.

_"Clark."_ Lex's voice was like warm honey.

"Hey. Thank you."

_"No problems?"_ There was a hint of a chuckle.

"Well, I thought Dad was going to object, though Mom tells me I'm misjudging him. I still think I managed to make a good case for keeping it."

_"Like?"_

"Oh, like he didn't want to come across me talking dirty to you on our house line," Clark grinned.

There was a deep chuckle from the other end. _"Clever boy,"_ Lex said approvingly. _"So - how's the current semester shaping up?"_

"Same old, same old, mostly. However, I did get to see the careers guidance counselor, to talk about class changes for next year. She was a bit surprised by my sudden interest in languages," he admitted wryly. "French has been one of my weaker subjects to date."

_"Weaker being a strictly relative term from a straight 'A' student,"_ Lex said dryly.

"I guess I could see her point, especially when I said I wanted to add Spanish to the mix. I couldn't exactly explain that I more or less learned Catalan in four days. Nobody would swallow that. By the way, despite what you just said, I wasn't getting 'A's in French."

_"From what I saw, that's the teacher's problem. You've got language labs at school, right?"_

"Sure."

_"Try to get into them more often. You obviously need contact with the spoken language. Once you've absorbed the basics, I think you'll find the formal practice of grammar easier. If you need stuff to work on outside of school - you know, videos, learning tapes, anything like that, let me know, I'll get them for you."_

"Okay. You know, I was convinced I was lousy at French. Maybe a more positive attitude on my part wouldn't hurt, either."

_"I'm sure it wouldn't."_ Lex's smile was audible.

"How are things on your end?"

_"Complex. Nothing much new. Security's well in place - remind me to introduce you to my new head of security, by the way, he needs to know you. The changes to my will have gone through. Carr's very good; I think I'd like to hire him for the whole procedure."_

"Suing your dad?"

_"Mm-hm. Well, negotiations first. I don't want this to go to court if it doesn't have to, it'll play havoc with the stock market."_

"And you don't really want to see your father in court, never mind in jail," Clark said softly.

There was a prolonged silence. _"I should,"_ Lex said eventually. _"I really should, but…"_

"I know. Lex, that's not a bad thing. You'll find the strength to do what's right. I know you will, even if, eventually, you do take that step towards cutting all your ties to your father. The thing is, you don't need him anymore. It's not like you'll be alone without him. You've got me - and I wouldn't be too surprised if my folks didn't feel like weighing in on your side, too. My mom does like you."

_"Your mom thinks I need fattening up,"_ he said, with a chuckle.

"Well, that's the point," Clark smiled. "She doesn't bother with people she doesn't like. My dad's coming around a bit, too, you know."

_"Now that would be worth paying to see!"_ Lex exclaimed sarcastically. _"You know why I'm not coming around there for at least a month? To give Jonathan the time to get over the idea that I've humped his little boy blind!"_

"Lex!"

Clark laughed gleefully, though. Lex _had_ humped him blind, and he had adored every second of it.

Their talk degenerated after that, as they reminisced over what they had come to call their 'honeymoon' and the sweet, sultry sex they had enjoyed with each other.

* * *

That was pretty much the tenor of most of their conversations over the following months. Clark came home from school, did his chores and homework, and then, either just before or just after dinner, got on the phone to Lex. Sometimes they talked about mundane things, more often passionately, recreating by voice the touches and caresses they had shared in their one week together. It didn't matter where Lex was; he usually made the time to talk to Clark.

Beyond that, they were at considerable pains to maintain appearances as they had been. Now that Lex was living on his own, his orders for the Kents' organic produce had reduced rather drastically, but every two weeks Clark dropped off a crate of fresh fruit and vegetables at the DeFries farmhouse and would usually stay for an hour or so. When Lex was home, they met two or three times a week in town; sometimes casually, just for a few minutes, sometimes taking the time to share coffee at the Talon, talking as they always did, and Clark still readily and openly availed himself of Lex's library if he needed help with his studies. They were lucky in a sense that their friendship had raised eyebrows right from the start. Smallville had pretty well gossiped itself out on that point, and wasn't seeing anything more to a connection that was already well-established as being a little peculiar.

Clark ached for the presence of his lover. The phone sex was good, and often fun, because Lex had a wild imagination when he chose to unleash it, but it wasn't like being with him, holding him and feeling his warmth and strength. In the privacy of Lex's home, between his own security measures and Clark's ability to check out the surroundings for intruders, animate or inanimate, they could hold each other close as they talked, but Lex, exercising iron self-control, never let it go any further than that. These sessions, rare as they were, helped, but were no kind of long-term solution. With only that one week of intimacy to draw on, Clark found himself growing unsure of his place in Lex's affections, and Lex grew nervous and a little angry if Clark, seeking reassurance, hinted at that. What they needed was real time together, days and weeks, not mere minutes.

Help came from an unexpected source.

It was mid-June. Martha was in the front yard, determined to eradicate the weeds that had flourished during a rather damp month of May, when a sleek, black motorcycle came to a stop just outside the driveway entrance. The leather-clad rider looked up at the name over the entrance, and then caught sight of Martha. He dismounted and pulled his helmet off, walking up the path towards her. She saw a handsome boy of medium height, black-haired and blue-eyed like her own son, with a wide, bright smile.

"Mrs. Kent?" he called out to her.

"Yes?"

"Hi. I'm Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne's ward. I'm looking for Clark."

"Oh, right!" She hastily pulled off her gardening gloves to shake hands with the boy. "Clark's out with his father, picking up supplies, but they should be back pretty soon. Please, come on in."

"Would you like a hand with that?" he offered instead, indicating the pile of weeds. "I didn't mean to disturb you from your work."

She gave him a slightly dubious look. "Do you know anything about gardening?"

He grinned and shook his head. "I wouldn't know one plant from another, but you know, you can just point and say, 'pull that up'. That I can do. I'm young and strong and not afraid of hard work, so, hey, use me," he added cheerfully, flinging his arms out in a theatrical gesture.

She chuckled. "Just remember, you asked for it."

So that was how the returning Kent men found a young stranger enthusiastically uprooting straggling green weeds from the front yard, while Martha took care of the shrubs and flowers. He had his back to them as they drove in, but straightened up and turned as the truck pulled in. Clark smiled as he recognized the other boy.

"It's Dick - remember, I met him in Gotham back in March?" he explained to his father.

Clark got out to greet his friend. "Hi, Dick. What brings you to Kansas? Is Bruce with you?

"The circus," Dick answered, "and, no, it's just me."

"The - " Clark blinked at the off-beat answer. "This sounds like a story. Hey, Mom, have you finished torturing this guy yet?"

"I'll have you know he volunteered," she replied in a dignified tone, then smiled at their visitor. "However, I think you've more than earned your lunch, if you'd care to stay?"

"I'd be delighted."

"You'll find a washroom just to the left of the front door - you must be roasting in that leather." Dick had stripped off the jacket, but still wore the pants and heavy boots. "Clark, go help your father unload while your friend's freshening up; then you can show him around while I get lunch ready."

Dick had stuffed regular clothes into the cycle's saddlebags, and was glad of the opportunity to change into something a little lighter than his leathers. He was quick about it, and wandered back out into the yard as Clark was stacking the last bag of feed. Clark introduced him properly to his father and then drew Dick off to his loft to talk privately.

"So, what really brings you to Smallville?" he asked.

"I wasn't entirely kidding, you know. The circus is here - although I may have persuaded the manager to take a new route through Kansas this summer," he conceded, sly amusement dancing in his eyes. "We're pitched outside Metropolis for the next week."

"Are you performing with them?" Clark asked, wide-eyed.

Dick sighed. "I wish. No, I broke my arm eight weeks ago, and while I'm out of the cast, it's going to be a few weeks longer before I'd be up to that kind of acrobatics."

"You broke your arm? Are you all right? What happened?"

"Long story. Stupid accident," Dick said dismissively, "and please don't make me tell you, because I hate feeling like a total idiot."

Clark smiled. "I know that feeling. But you're okay now?"

"Oh, sure, I'm healing nicely, everyone's very pleased with my progress. Everyone except Bruce, who's still pissed at me for getting it broken in the first place, that is," he added wryly. "To tell the truth, we're having a few problems right now, and I thought a little space might be advisable. I've taken summer vacations with the Haly Circus before - it's my old home, remember?"

Clark nodded. "I'm sorry to hear you're in trouble with Bruce."

Dick shrugged. "Bound to happen from time to time. He's stubborn, I'm no walk in the park - we'll sort things out." His blue gaze sharpened. "You're not looking so sparky yourself, Clark. How are things with Lex?"

Clark looked away for a moment. "We've hardly had any time together," he said quietly, eventually. "An hour here or there, every couple of weeks, when we're at his place and can be sure there's no one spying on us, but it's not like we, um, do anything much. He's too careful for that. Otherwise, it's always pretending everything's the way it was before. We talk pretty well every day, but - it's getting to be a strain. I don't…. Sometimes I wonder why he wants to bother with me, but he gets angry if I say anything like that. There's something else bothering him too, something to do with work, I think, but he's already so tense I haven't dared ask."

"That's foolish," Dick said sternly. "You're partners, you shouldn't hesitate to ask, and even to push a little if he won't talk at first. As it is, I can tell you what's bothering Lex; he's spoken to Bruce about it. And, no, I don't think they discuss his personal affairs much, only business," he added astutely, catching the quick frown that crossed Clark's face, "so don't go thinking that Lex is talking to Bruce when he won't to you."

Clark gave him a faintly crooked smile. "What are you, a mind reader?"

"I've picked up a few things from Mystical Madame Rosa," Dick agreed casually, then laughed when Clark's eyes widened. "I'm just pulling your leg. I can read between the lines, that's all."

"What's up with his work, then?"

"You know that New York chemical research company he took over just before you visited us?"

"Agenothree?"

"Yeah. He's in control of it, but LuthorCorp still has a sizeable chunk of shares. That means that any work done by that lab is open to their scrutiny if they choose. Lex is working on something big - I don't know what, exactly, but Bruce says it's likely to be revolutionary if he can get it completed without interference - and Agenothree's the only place he has access to the facilities he needs to complete the work. Except LuthorCorp always has someone poking around the place."

"So Lex doesn't want his father to know about whatever he's working on just now," Clark realized. "I suppose if LuthorCorp is a shareholder, they can't hide too much of the research, either, can they?"

"Not unless it was a government contract, and it's not, or so I gather."

"Could they steal his work?"

"Maybe, though I'm sure Lex has taken care of that. Besides, I don't think it would get them anywhere. Bruce says that Lex is so far ahead of his field, giving his work to someone else to complete would just put things back a couple of years."

"I don't see what Lex can do about it, if Agenothree's the only place with the facilities…"

"Well, WayneTech has facilities here and there, too. I've got a proposal from Bruce; I was hoping to see Lex to talk to him about it."

"Lex is in Metropolis today. He won't be back until this evening."

Dick made a face. "I have to be back at the circus this evening. Look, I was - I am - going to invite you to see the show this week. Can you get Lex to come? We'll be able to talk then. It might help you, too."

"How?"

"What would you say if I told you we could get you and Lex away to a private estate in the middle of virtually nowhere for the rest of the summer? Lex would have to be a little discreet, but what time he doesn't spend with you, he'll spend on his work, so I don't think that'd be too big a problem. It'd be up to you to pry Lex away from his research, of course, but Bruce tells me you already have that technique down," he added, with a faint smirk.

"Are you serious?" Clark asked avidly.

"Completely."

"How - how would I get away?"

"With the circus." He laughed suddenly. "What kid hasn't dreamt of running away with the circus, at least once in his life? Come to a show and meet the crew. Then we'll talk to your folks. You'll genuinely spend a week or so with the show, getting to know the ropes and all the crew, so you can honestly talk about it, and then we'll just drop you off where Lex is, and pick you up again on the way back. One thing about carnies: once they've taken you in, they'll always watch your back. They'd help you because I asked, but if you stay with them a little while, I'm sure they'll help you because they want to, anyway. With that kind of help, there's no way an outsider would ever find out you weren't still there, believe me."

Clark was almost breathless. "Oh, God - the whole summer with Lex…. That would be fantastic!"

"Clark!" It was Jonathan, calling from down below. "Your mother says lunch is ready."

"We'll be right there, Dad!" Before leaving the loft, though, Clark stopped Dick with a hand on his arm. "Listen - not that I don't appreciate it, but you and Bruce are really going out of your way to help us. Do you mind if I ask why?"

The older boy studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I'm following Bruce's lead, mostly," he said eventually. "He seems to think that what's happening with Lex is important. I get the impression from him that we're helping to change the future in some way. Speaking for myself, there's something about you that I can't quite put my finger on, but I just get the feeling that helping you is… the right thing, in some way." He shook his head, a faintly self-mocking smile appearing on his face. "Just a hunch, and I always follow my hunches."

"It's a little strange," Clark teased him shyly.

"Oh, that's good, considering where we are," Dick shot back, heading down the stairs. "I've been doing some reading up about this place since I met you. Strange doesn't begin to cover it. You've got to tell me, was there really a girl who could just morph into anybody she wanted to?"

* * *

Over lunch, Dick explained to the senior Kents his connection with Haly's Circus. Although Clark had told them that Dick had been born to a circus family, they hadn't realized that he still kept contact with his old life.

"Are you going to go back to it?" Martha asked, intrigued.

Dick smiled a little crookedly. "No, I don't think so. I love reconnecting with them every so often, and I can still do the routines, but I don't expect that'll last forever. My life has taken too big a turn away from all that."

"Do you know what you'd like to do, then?"

His smile warmed as he shook his head. "No, not really. I've been thinking - vaguely, as yet - along the lines of something in law enforcement. In the meantime, the circus is a breath of fresh air from time to time. Besides, I've got to keep an eye on my investment," he added mischievously.

"Your investment?" Martha exclaimed.

Dick grinned. "Yep. Well, at the moment, it's what you might call a silent partnership, since I'm too young, but the paperwork's there."

"How come?"

"My parents had started a college fund for me almost as soon as I was born. When they died, and Bruce took me in, he turned that money over to Lucius Fox to invest for me, and since Lucius is kind of a genius when it comes to that sort of thing, well - it grew, very healthily. A couple of years back, though, there were some additional windfall payments from mergers, and about the same time we found out that the circus was in trouble. Like I said, it's also my home, always will be. Bruce invested the windfall surplus in the circus, and talked Bill Haly into letting him send down some Wayne Enterprise management hotshot to put the circus back on track. It worked very nicely, and as a result, I'm part-owner of a reasonably successful business." He turned to Clark. "So if I want to invite a few friends to a show or two, there's never any problem. You will come, won't you? If you've got friends you think might enjoy it, too, the more the merrier," he smiled.

Clark looked hopefully at his parents, who were just pleased to see him brightening up out of the general funk of the last few weeks, and agreed readily enough.

Clark beamed. "That'd be great." He turned to Dick. "We should go down to the Talon after lunch - I'll introduce you to my friends. I think they'd love that idea."

"I'd like that."

* * *

A week later, after their outing, Clark mischievously announced to his friends that he was running away with the circus for the summer, and he did so quite publicly, over coffee at the Talon, so of course the word spread like wildfire. It was something of a three-day wonder, but when asked, he talked about a chance to get to see some of the country, and how the circus wasn't unlike a farm in some respects, and that he had a friend already working there…. In short, he came across as coltishly enthusiastic, and if some people thought his parents were crazy for letting him go off like that, well, the Kents had always been a little strange. One or two wondered privately how Jonathan was going to manage without his son to help out around the farm as usual, but the farmer always seemed to land on his feet.

They had no notion of the ferocious argument that had opposed Lex and Jonathan on that very point, when the younger man had mistakenly assumed that Jonathan would let him fund the cost of a couple of extra hands over the weeks of Clark's absence. Since this was the same day Dick had returned to the farm to explain what they hoped the overall plan for the summer would be, he and Clark both sat there listening to the two other men argue heatedly, wondering if it was going to bring everything crashing to a halt. Even Martha could only stand by and watch as the battle raged between the two.

Finally, Lex just turned his back on the farmer, going to the window to look out as if seeking his composure somewhere in the vast expanses of cornfield. He glanced over at Clark, who just looked back helplessly, not knowing how to find a solution to this problem. It wasn't something that could be said in front of Dick, but everyone else present knew that Clark could do the work of at least four hands. Lex watched him, the silver blaze fading from his clear eyes, and shook his head slightly.

"I'll never make you choose," he said very softly to the boy.

Jonathan, still overheated, opened his mouth again, but Martha intervened.

"Jonathan, just shut up a minute," she said sharply.

Taken aback, he gave her a startled glance, and did. She turned her attention to Lex, seeing the stillness of focus and concentration settle on the slim young man once more.

"I believe Lex has thought of another solution," she said quietly, after a moment.

He turned around, smiling very faintly at her. "When did you turn psychic?" he asked lightly, grateful for her unspoken support.

She smiled back. "You get this look when you've had an idea. I'm starting to recognize it."

"Okay," he nodded, then turned his attention back to Jonathan. "I do have another suggestion. A brief repayment vacation from your loan."

"A what?"

"It's not an uncommon arrangement these days. I'm sure you've seen that kind of thing advertised as part of financial loan packages. A short hiatus - three months, say."

"It's not in the terms of the loan…" Jonathan growled.

"Terms are there to be changed if all parties are agreeable," Lex said sharply. "It's very simple; we make an addendum to the existing contract extending its term for three months, in exchange for a three-month break this summer. You're currently paying a little over a thousand dollars a month. You only need help for two months - not needing to pay that amount for three should permit you to hire whatever help you need during Clark's absence."

Jonathan had been infuriated enough with Lex to object to anything he proposed just as a matter of principle, but he was abruptly very conscious of three other pairs of eyes on him. Apart from the obvious expectations of his wife and son, Dick Grayson was clearly beginning to wonder if his friend's father was quite right in the head. Jonathan wasn't even going to imagine what Lex was thinking of him - not that he needed to; the younger man had been sufficiently explicit during the preceding argument.

"It's a solution," he admitted grudgingly, then couldn't help adding snidely, "I don't know why you couldn't have brought it up sooner."

"Because I'd forgotten about the loan!" Lex shouted at him, at the end of his tether, "and if you weren't so damned self-absorbed, you could have thought of it just as easily as me!" His glare could have sliced through solid steel. "I'll have the papers ready in the morning," he announced firmly, and stalked out.

Seconds after the initial shock of his explosion and departure, Martha quickly signaled to the boys to go out after Lex, and Clark lost no time in racing out front to catch him before he got into his truck.

"Lex, wait!"

Lex paused with his hand on the door handle, tension still radiating from him. Clark came up behind him, and just put a hand gently against the small of his back.

"Don't go. You were going to stay for dinner…"

Lex gave a strangled laugh. "I don't think so, farmboy, not after that."

"Come on, Lex. Don't go, not yet, at least. Come up to the loft. You're too wound up."

Lex never could resist Clark when he got that cajoling note in his voice, and let himself be led discreetly up to the quiet space Clark called his own. It was true that he had a pounding headache developing, and he was only vaguely aware of Dick tagging along behind them.

Up in the loft, he collapsed onto the couch with a profound sigh. Clark sat beside him, put his hands on Lex's shoulders, and gently tugged at him until Lex succumbed and lay down, with his head in Clark's lap. Clark's fingertips found the pressure points at his temples and began massaging gently.

"Oh, that feels good…" Lex sighed again, this time in relaxation.

"I thought you might be getting a headache," Clark smiled.

"How do you put up with that man?" he asked plaintively.

"He's my dad, Lex, and he loves me."

Lex's mouth quirked wryly. "True. " He lay there a moment longer, then brushed Clark's hands aside gently and sat up. "This isn't too good an idea, not here," he said, in reply to Clark's reproachful look.

Dick, standing at the window opening, glanced back, a little smile touching his lips. "There's no one around, and Clark says you keep this place swept for ghosts regularly."

Lex eyed him dubiously. "What would you know about all that?"

"Hey, you're not the only one with security concerns. Do I need to remind you I've been kidnapped a couple of times?"

"Mmh - sorry, I had forgotten that," Lex apologized.

"That's okay. I prefer to forget it myself," he acknowledged with a touch of humor, then added, his tone curious, "Is it always like that between you and Clark's dad?"

"Yes," Lex replied..

"No," Clark contradicted. "Usually you're more polite to each other." At Lex's snort, he nudged him lightly. "Come on, Lex, be honest. I've never seen you argue like that."

"Okay. No, we don't usually fight like that - but only because one of us doesn't usually hang around long enough to get started."

"Lex - it's not like he's actually stopping me from going with you," Clark pointed out gently.

"Oh, no, he was only trying to hang a shitload of guilt around your neck for doing so," Lex said sarcastically. "You're good enough at that kind of thing all by yourself, you really don't need any assistance from your dad."

"You ought to know by now that just offering him money outright doesn't work."

"I hadn't thought of anything else at the time," Lex defended.

"Had you really forgotten the loan?"

"Of course I had, Clark. That money doesn't go into any of my accounts, personal or business, remember? It's not even part of my budget, so it might as well not exist, as far as I'm concerned."

"Your financial affairs are so complicated," Clark sighed.

Lex chuckled softly. "They're not going to get any simpler, either." He stood. "I think I'm going to make myself scarce. Dick, thank you for your help, I appreciate it."

"You're welcome," he said mildly. "Bruce'll be in touch with you over the details. Don't worry about Clark, I'll see that he's all right."

Lex nodded, then looked down at Clark with a faint, tender smile. He reached out to stroke a finger lightly down Clark's cheek and across his lips.

"Think you can put up with just me for company for two months, farmboy?" he asked softly, not entirely teasing.

"I could ask you the same thing," Clark returned. "I guess we'll find out," he added with a confident smile.

Lex laughed under his breath, tousled Clark's dark curls lightly, and left.

He was about to get into the truck when Martha called his name from the front porch. He hesitated, then turned to face her as she drew near.

"You're not staying for dinner, Lex?" she asked quietly.

"I don't think it'd be a very good idea."

"Jonathan's gone to check the netting in the orchard. He'll have cooled off by dinner time," she promised.

"I think it'd be better for both of us if he was even more cooled off by a good night's sleep," Lex said wryly. "I've got to bring those papers by tomorrow, after all."

"He'll sign them, Lex," she assured him gently.

"I, uh, probably owe him an apology - some of the things I said were unwarranted - but I'm not sure I could deliver it honestly at the moment," he admitted ruefully.

"Oh, when it comes to that, I'm thinking the honors are about even. He wasn't exactly kind to you, either. Nor would he be the most graceful apologist right at this moment," she agreed, with a little smile.

"I owe you an apology, too."

"It's accepted. You really should know by now that's not the way to approach my husband, though," she said mildly.

"That's what Clark just said to me," he sighed, then added, genuinely curious, "Do you mind if I ask you something, Martha? Just how were you planning on coping when Clark leaves for college?"

"Ah - I think we hadn't really worked that one out yet. It still seems like a long way off."

"It's not. You might want to put some thought into it - because I will be. Even if your husband doesn't, surely you see what you're doing to Clark by living day to day like this?" he said earnestly. "I know he's counting on getting a scholarship to wherever, and I'm sure he will, but that won't solve your labor problems. You've got to come up with another solution - or let me help you."

"No strings attached?"

"One very large string - Clark," he said bluntly, "and that's not very fair of you. Even if I weren't in the picture, that problem - your finances and his further education - would be exactly the same. I know you don't believe that his future is here in Smallville any more than I do."

"You're asking a lot of us, Lex," she said softly. "Clark is our miracle, always has been. You're right, he doesn't belong in this community, and that's been increasingly obvious as he got older. This year, though, everything's changed so quickly, so fundamentally…. I'd like you to give that some thought this summer. Please don't try to turn our lives upside down."

"I don't want to change you," Lex said earnestly. "If you only knew…." He stopped, frowning and looking down, clearly uncomfortable with what he had been about to say.

"In all your arguing, I think there was one thing you said that Jonathan heard very clearly; that you wouldn't make Clark choose. That was very revealing, Lex, because I don't think Jonathan could have said the same thing at that moment."

"He and I have already had that discussion."

"Have you? I wonder if he took it in, the first time. Maybe you didn't realize what you were offering, either."

There were times when those gray-blue eyes looked far too old for such a young face.

"I always know what's on the line," he said quietly, and got into the truck, giving her a little wave as he pulled out and drove off.

**End Chapter Nine**


	10. The Oak and the Cypress (10/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 10 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 5312  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TEN**

Seven weeks without intrusion or interruption, in a curious, sprawling villa in the heart of Lamoille County, Vermont, were just what Clark and Lex needed to stabilize their relationship once more. Clark arrived a few days after Lex, leaving the Haly Circus at Hyde Park, the county seat, and explored the extensive grounds - mostly woodland - of the property with interest. He was, however, definitely bemused to find a state-of-the-art physics laboratory set up in an annex. He was even more bemused to realize that Lex didn't seem remotely interested in why or how it got there, which, considering how obsessive Lex had been about the accident which had brought them together, was quite a surprise.

"I've got precisely two things on my mind at the moment," Lex said in some exasperation when Clark queried him for the _n_ th time, "you, and finishing my tests. I couldn't care less about anything else. I get compulsive when I have too much mental leisure time, so ask me again when I've got nothing else to do."

With that, Clark had to be satisfied, and he gave up, shaking his head at Lex's single-mindedness. On the whole, though, Lex was mindful of how much time he spent in the lab as opposed to with his young lover, and Clark didn't have to extract him forcibly from the annex too often. That could be fun, too, however; Clark wasn't familiar with this 'scientist' aspect of Lex, and discovered that he found it very sexy indeed. The main aspect of this shared time, though, was learning simply how to live together.

Lex was very self-contained. He decided on the rooms that he required for his comfort, and hardly ever went anywhere else within the property. He was meticulously neat, and Clark found he could walk into a room two minutes after Lex had left it and hardly know the older boy had even been there. Clark, on the other hand, liked to expand into all the available space, and leave his mark everywhere. He wasn't exactly untidy, but he was certainly a lot more casual about leaving things lying around than Lex. If Lex complained, however, he was able to tidy up in the blink of an eye.

This was just as well, because if there was one area where their respective styles clashed distinctly, it was in the kitchen. They were both experimenting there, of course. Lex was more ambitious; he would look through cookery books, see something that caught his eye, and approach the preparation with all the concentration he brought to his chemical experiments. The results could be a little unpredictable, cuisine not being the precise science chemistry is, and even when he got it right - which, in the end, was more often than not - he was often a little too formal in his preparations, but there was one conspicuous constant. He systematically tidied up behind him as he went along, so that by the time the meal was eaten practically the only things left to clean up were the place settings.

Clark was much more casual, relying on memory to allow him to recreate things he had seen his mother do. This enabled him to put simple meals together quickly, but the kitchen looked like a bombsite by the time he was done. As Lex objected vigorously to eating in such a mess, Clark usually had to put on a burst of speed to get at least the worst of it cleared away before they sat down to their meal. Fortunately, they found tolerance came easily to them both, and more often joked about each other's habits than complained about them.

While Lex was in the lab, Clark filled his time in a variety of ways. There was a well-stocked library in the villa, of which he made good use, enjoying the calm. When he felt in need of greater activity, he liked hiking over the mountain trails, or watching out for the deer and other wildlife that proliferated in the area. Since Lex was by far the more recognizable of the two, it was Clark who went out regularly to the nearest general store to pick up supplies, or into Hyde Park for a little greater variety. Anything Lex required for his work, he would e-mail Bruce Wayne for, and it would arrive via a discreet WayneTech courier within a few hours.

The best time of all, though, was nightfall, when the quickly cooling air after sunset would find them coiled tightly together in bed, touching, teasing and whispering to each other, forging bonds ever tighter with each passing day.

The time passed all too quickly. All of a sudden, it was nearly the end of August. Haly's Circus would be back in Hyde Park that afternoon, and Clark had to rejoin it, to go home. Clark had woken early that morning, and all he wanted to do was watch Lex as he slept. In sleep, Lex's face seemed rounder, softer. The early morning light, filtered by the light drapes, seemed to kiss his pale skin, giving it a velvety bloom that Clark wanted very much to caress, but wouldn't, because it would wake him. His skin looked so soft - Lex barely needed to shave, perhaps once every three or four days. He didn't exactly look younger, or not much - he was hardly old in the first place - but he looked more innocent, and Clark noticed a change since the first days of their vacation. He definitely looked more relaxed, happier. The thought that he, Clark, was responsible for Lex being happier warmed his heart. Then it broke again at the thought of being without Lex, of having to leave Lex to face his incredibly complicated life alone.

As if hearing his thoughts, Lex's eyes opened abruptly, immediate and full consciousness visible in the pale gray-blue gaze. He was looking directly at Clark, quite still and steady for a moment, then he extracted a hand from under the covers and reached up to stroke his young lover's cheek tenderly.

"Clark. Don't."

Clark's blue eyes filled with tears. "I don't want to leave you," he whispered unsteadily.

"You're not, love." The long fingers on his face caressed gently. "We're just going to be separated for a while. Have to shelve the sex for a bit again," he half-smiled, crookedly, "but the rest - that will all still be there, the friendship and the love. That's not going to change. We'll write, and talk, and find time to be together." He pressed his lips lightly to Clark's. "This isn't an ending. You have to think like that."

"It's been…. We've been so close. It's going to feel like this great, gaping hole in my life. In me."

"Clark, don't make me lecture you again about letting your emotions rule you," Lex said firmly. "I'm not going anywhere. In everything that really matters, nothing is changing. The only thing is that we won't be going to sleep together at night, and waking up together in the morning. Physical contact will be limited, but you, of all people, can't be saying that that's the most important thing between us. You, who were prepared to love me in silence, without ever looking for any return other than our friendship?"

"That was before I knew you loved me back," Clark reminded him, with a shaky little smile.

"Mmh," Lex smiled back, "and maybe a little bit because you're a horny teenager?" Clark chuckled, sounding a little more positive. Lex slid his fingers into the boy's silky black curls, his touch possessive. "How about showing me some of that adolescent lust before we have to get up?"

Clark needed no further invitation, and pounced.

* * *

Much later, as the sun began to brighten the room further, they lay sated, still burrowed against each other in a warm nest of blankets, since the fall days were growing ever cooler. Lex was again stroking Clark's hair languidly, reaching a decision.

"Clark."

Clark lifted his dark head to look at him questioningly.

"I haven't hidden my past from you," Lex said, very softly, his clear gaze intent on his face. "I've fucked a great many people, just for the hell of it, and I've used sex as a bargaining tool when it suited me."

Clark nodded silently. Lex had been brutally honest with him, and it hurt to think of that past, not just because Clark wanted Lex all to himself, but also because it seemed like such a desolate way to live.

"No more," Lex said simply. "No more casual fucks because there's a reasonably willing body to hand, and no more - no more Victorias. I know I've said that to you before, and there hasn't been anyone but you since we got together, but it's a promise this time. I really mean it."

Clark's eyes were wide. "Why are you saying this, Lex?"

"Because events are progressing. The work I've been doing, it's almost finished. Another week at most, and I'll be ready to take it to the supervised testing stage, which I know it's going to pass. After that, I go public with it, and then I have to sell it. Sell it, and myself, as a bona fide scientist and businessman. I'm going to be courting publicity instead of avoiding it, and the press likes to speculate on what it doesn't actually know, if not invent outright. So you might see some things printed that… could give you the wrong impression."

Clark shifted to his side, propping his head up on one hand. "Like you attending some social event with a supermodel on your arm."

"Something like that."

"Do you have to?"

"Attend the event? Yes, probably. Have some pretend date with me? No, most likely not, but that doesn't mean I won't be photographed to make it look as if I was with someone. It's happened before. It's not something that bothers me. I just want to be sure that you understand it shouldn't bother you, either. I promise you that, no matter what the tabloids may make anything I do look like."

Clark felt his breath stop in his throat. They had never discussed exclusivity before. He expected it; he couldn't really imagine anything else for himself, and he had always known that he would be desperately hurt if he ever found the person he loved - whoever that might be - cheating on him. Yet he had never been able to bring it up with Lex before, partly because their current situation was so precarious, and partly because when he thought about it, he felt all the weight of Lex's experience against his inexperience, and it daunted him. Yet here Lex was, offering it freely, without any prompting on his part, and Clark was overwhelmed by the feelings. His touch to Lex's cheek and lips was feather-light, infinitely tender, in the gentlest of caresses.

Lex's eyes closed fleetingly, as if he could hardly bear the shining light in Clark's eyes, but he leaned in to Clark's touch.

"I don't say the words much," he went on, in a very low, husky tone. "I know, sometimes, you wish I would. I don't say them because I've used them too often before, when they didn't mean anything. You and me, Clark, that means something. I can't use the same words for us, you see?"

Clark's hand stroked down Lex's throat, over his shoulder and down his arm until he could intertwine their fingers.

"I get it," he murmured "What about when I say them to you?"

Lex smiled a little. "That's different. They mean something to you, and they mean something to me when you say them."

"I love you," Clark said promptly. "I'll always…."

"Ah…" Lex's fingers pressed to his lips gently. "What have I told you about using words like 'forever'?"

Clark glowered at him petulantly; Lex could be really infuriating sometimes.

"Lex, you've just promised to be faithful to me."

"I will be, for as long as we're together."

"Which will be f - "

Lex tugged sharply on one black curl. "Do me a favor. Don't tempt fate."

Clark sighed heavily. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"I'm pragmatic." He ruffled the shaggy locks, smiling at the younger boy affectionately. "Don't fret. At the moment, all I can think of is doing everything I can to keep you interested in me for as long as possible."

That sounded better, Clark thought, relaxing. "That sounds good. Mind if I do the same?"

"Knock yourself out," Lex grinned.

When Clark pounced on him again, he unfortunately pushed Lex far enough up the bed to cause his head to bang against the wooden headboard.

"Ow," Lex complained, rubbing the back of his head. "I said knock yourself out, Clark, not me."

"Sorry," Clark said penitently. "Let me kiss it better," he added, and did, lavishly, until Lex laughed and sought his lips.

"Lex," he said thoughtfully, when they managed to stop kissing for a moment, "if we're still together, say, ten years from now, will you let me say the "f" word?"

"Hmmm." Lex thought about it, ostentatiously, until Clark narrowed his eyes impatiently. "No - but I might," he offered.

"Hey, how come you get to say it, but I don't?"

"Because you'll still be young, but if I don't know my mind at thirty-one, I'm a lost cause."

"Just when will I stop being young?"

"Oh, I don't know. Fifty years or so… no, Clark…!"

Clark had discovered during their 'honeymoon' that Lex was ticklish in a very few, very precise spots. It was a knowledge he savored, and had never actually used since his discovery, but he thought this merited it. He stopped before Lex developed hiccoughs.

"You want to rethink that statement?" he queried sweetly.

"Brat! Okay, okay, ten years - okay. If you're still there in ten years, you can say 'forever'."

Clark grinned. Lex was pouting, or as close as he ever got to it, and Clark loved it.

* * *

Save for the weekend after Clark started 10th grade, Lex was absent from Smallville throughout the fall. Clark missed both the friend and the lover, but either talked to Lex or got messages from him daily. He had gained enormously in confidence thanks to their summer together, so he just went on with his life as normally as a growing alien living in the meteor capital of the country could.  
Lex returned to town in mid-November.

Clark and his friends were, for once, so concentrated on their studying that none of them heard the car pull up in front of the house, and it was only the tread on the loft stairs that alerted them to another's presence.

Lex stopped three stairs short of the top, taking in the setting with a brightly amused glance.

"My, how industrious," he remarked, gently mocking, when he saw he had their attention.

"Exam," Chloe said crisply.

"Geography," Pete supplied, distinctly mournful.

"Thursday," Clark smiled luminously. "Hi, Lex. Welcome back." He just stopped himself from saying 'home'. "Have you been back long? What brings you around?"

Lex climbed the last steps. "I just got in. Actually, I came to see if you wanted to come for a ride. However, I see you're occupied." His tone was still amused.

Clark frowned. "Why would I want to…?" He stopped and took another look at his lover. On the surface, Lex appeared just as normal; stylish black suit, thin, silk jersey, grape-colored polo neck. That wasn't it, though. Lex was fairly radiating energy, that crackling intensity that Clark hadn't actually seen in some time. He was, it was clear to Clark, immensely pleased with himself at this moment. Partial illumination dawned.

"Lex, have you got a new toy?" he asked, beginning to smile again.

In answer, Lex held out his left hand, keys dangling from one finger by their ring just in front of Clark. The teenager reached up to still their movement, and turned the crest to look at it. His mouth fell open.

"Oh, my God! Where is it?" he demanded, springing up eagerly.

"Out front, of course," he smirked, and stepped aside as Clark made for the stairs.

"Clark?" Pete called, confused.

"A Lamborghini, Pete," Clark called back. "He's got a Lamborghini out front!"

Pete barreled down the steps after the other boy.

Chloe, more sedately, got to her feet and shot Lex a sardonic glance. "Men," she sighed.

His smirk just broadened, and he made an elaborately chivalrous gesture for her to precede him out of the loft.

"What makes you think I want to go inspect this - toy?" she challenged.

"You don't," he replied smoothly. "You want to watch your friends make fools of themselves over it."

She had to bite her lip to suppress her grin; he was right on the money. She grabbed her camera and trotted out to the drive in front of the house.  
Even she had to admit that the gleaming black car was a thing of beauty. As for the boys - she took a couple of quick snaps of their drooling expressions.

"Oh, man…!" Pete sighed, prowling around the sleek vehicle, subjugated by it, even though he was still reluctant to admire anything to do with Lex.

Clark was peering inside. "It's the Murcielago, right?"

"Latest model," Lex confirmed.

"When did you get it?"

"Arrived just a few hours ago."

Clark straightened up, laughing. "I knew you couldn't go forever without a sports car."

"It's been ten months, Clark," Lex pointed out reasonably.

"I know - and you just had to go right for the top of the line," he teased. "No half-measures."

"This isn't just a new car. It's a celebration."

Pete was still too absorbed in the car, but Lex's tone got the attention of the other two.

"Of what?" Chloe asked bluntly.

"Oh, let's just say, Lex Luthor is back."

"You've never been gone, Lex," she said, puzzled.

He shook his head a little. "I've been off-balance since the start of the year, but no longer." He opened the passenger door and picked up a newspaper from the seat, and tossed it to Clark. "Here. Bottom left."

The headline for the article read "New 'Spin' Nano-technology Breakthrough". Clark read the article briefly, Chloe peering around his arm to read also. She was the one who reacted first.

"Spintronics - isn't that a new technique of using electron magnetism to speed up standard electronic processes? It's almost completely theoretical, though?"

"Not any longer." Satisfaction oozed from him.

"You developed this compound," Clark realized. Lex had never actually explained fully what he was working on, and now a few things made more sense to him.

"Developed, tested and patented. I am back on the map again, Clark," he said, with sudden, sharp passion.

Clark smiled at him, enjoying the sense of exultation he was getting from Lex. "Well, you're going to have to explain the details to me in plain English, but I'm guessing it's a good thing."

"I'm guessing you're going to be making money from it," Pete added snidely.

"Serious money," Lex agreed without hesitation.

"Serious!" Pete rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Even without LuthorCorp behind you, you still have more money than all the families in this county put together. What could you possibly call 'serious' money?"

"You have no idea how restricting it can be going from being a billionaire to just being a millionaire," Lex said, straight-faced.

Pete made an infuriated sound and would have stomped off, but Clark caught his arm. "Stop, Pete, he's just yanking your chain."

"He's even easier than you are," Lex smirked at Clark.

Clark shot him a reproving glance. "Lex, behave yourself."

Lex held up his hands in an appeasing gesture, still visibly amused, and Clark shook his head at him, trying not to smile, too. Neither noticed Chloe's eyes widen suddenly, and then narrow in sharp focus.

"So you got yourself a present to mark the occasion," Clark said.

"Right. New car for a new stable, new career opening up, life looking good and all that jazz," he answered nonchalantly. "I guess I'd better give you a rain-check on that ride, though?"

"Uh, yeah," Clark said regretfully. "Unless - were you going to let me drive?" he asked hopefully.

"In your dreams, farmboy," Lex laughed, pulling on his leather driving gloves. "I'll want to see a real driver's license before I let you anywhere near my cars."

"Of course," Clark agreed, deadpan. "You're perfectly capable of crashing them on your own."

"Ouch! Low blow," Lex complained. "I haven't had an accident since we met."

"You haven't been driving anything you were likely to have an accident in since January," he pointed out sweetly.

"Watch it, Kent, I may rescind that rain-check."

Clark just grinned, and Lex flipped him off cheerfully, before sliding back into the driver's seat. With a casual wave goodbye, he gunned the car, reversed at speed out of the drive and disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust.

"Well, now that you guys are done slobbering over a chunk of metal," Chloe said tartly, eyes fixed on Clark's smiling face, while he was still looking down the road, "maybe we could finish what we were doing?" She was suddenly furiously angry.

"A chunk of metal?" Pete winced at the callous appellation. "Okay, I still don't like the guy, but even I've got to admit he's got great taste in cars. How can you call a - a dream like that a chunk of metal?"

"Because, bottom line, that's all it is," she snapped, and stalked off to the barn.

Pete and Clark looked at each other.

"What did we say?" Pete asked.

"No idea," Clark said, bewildered, as they followed her back to their study session.

Chloe's mood continued to be snippy for the next hour, until they were all quite glad when Clark's mother put in an appearance, offering the enticement of a taste test for her latest baking experiments. Since Martha seemed incapable of making anything that tasted bad - especially when it came to baking - Pete was off down the stairs faster than greased lightning. Clark, grinning, packed up Pete's books to stuff them into his backpack, but Chloe, still scowling, moved more slowly, until Clark sighed heavily and blocked her movements.

"What did we do this time?" he asked bluntly.

She gave him a belligerent glare. "We? Not 'we'. You."

"Okay, then, what did I do this time?"

She straightened up, put her hands on her hips and jutted her chin out defiantly. "Okay. When were you going to tell me about you and Lex?"

There were times when Clark felt that he had a dual personality, because something kicked in for an automatic response when he himself was bereft of speech.

"Tell you what?" he heard himself say.

"Just when the eye-fucks turned into real fucks?" she demanded crudely.

"Chloe…!"

"Don't lie to me!" she yelled, close to tears suddenly. "I knew when you came back from summer break that there had been somebody. I knew that whoever it was, it had been enough that you knew you weren't really interested in Lana anymore, and if you'd ever been remotely interested in me, that was gone, too, but I thought, okay, summer fling, it happens, it wasn't anyone here, and maybe you'd just - readjust. Except you haven't, you've just been, you know, same as always, except - happier. Still on a different planet, but a nicer place than wherever it was you were for most of last year, that's for sure. I thought at least you'd tell me about it, eventually, who she was. I could wait. I didn't figure on it being on-going. I didn't figure on it being Lex!"

"Chloe…"

"I mean, God, you've always been intense together, but, okay, nothing's ever quite straightforward with you, Clark, and he's not exactly the boy next door, either. Just when did he steal you out from underneath all our noses?"

"Chloe, stop!" he pleaded.

She looked up at him angrily. "I swear to God, if you try to tell me there's nothing going on between you two, I am never speaking to you again! I mean, Christ, did you hear yourselves out there…?"

"I don't know, Chloe," he said softly, a little painfully. "What did you hear?"

"Oh, I don't know. 'Behave yourself'? To a Luthor? And he just took it, no put-down, no retort, just backed down?"

"He didn't back down…"

"If anyone else in this town had said that to him, he'd have frozen them solid! You're really pissing me off here, Clark. I know what I saw out there…. Lex away from town since the beginning of summer, and the first place we see him is here? Lex with a new sports car, and he drives straight from Metropolis to here, not to his own home, but here, to offer you a ride?"

She tried to push past him again, fighting to retain her composure, but he caught her shoulders and held her, gently but firmly, almost as distressed as she was.

"Chloe…. You're so angry…."

"Shouldn't I be?"

He pushed her back to look at her steadily. "I don't know. I'll tell you this. I'm over sixteen now. If anyone suspects Lex and I are doing anything wrong, I'll get into just as much trouble as he does."

Her eyes widened. "You think I'd do that to you?"

"You seem mad enough to," he returned evenly, a little defensively.

"That's not fair!"

He studied her until she grew abashed under his concentrated gaze and looked down. His grip on her shoulders relaxed.

"You're just annoyed I haven't told you anything?" he asked gently.

"If I can't get you interested in me as a date, you could at least trust me as a friend," she said mulishly, feeling both still aggrieved and slightly childish at the same time.

"Chloe - you want to be a journalist. Haven't you ever been told things you just can't repeat because they're not your secrets to share?"

She was silent for a bit. Then she looked up at him again.

"Off the record?" she asked, a glint of her usual spark in her eyes.

"Chloe, since we're being honest with each other, you really, _really_ like letting other people know you know things they don't," Clark said dryly.

She drew a zip over her lips. "Not a word, Clark, I promise. Not even to Pete." She rolled her eyes briefly. "Especially not to Pete, I think."

He nodded ruefully. "Yeah, I think so, too. Not to your dad, either."

"Lex isn't his boss anymore," Chloe said, not objecting, just puzzled.

"That might change again," Clark smiled faintly. She looked at him wide-eyed, and he held up his hands. "Look, I don't know the details there, but whatever it is, it won't be to the detriment of any of the personnel, I'm sure of that. Lex likes your dad and values his work, and Lex is the one who made sure there were no lay-offs when LuthorCorp sold the plant in the first place."

She nodded; she had had a vague suspicion of that at the time, though she'd found nothing to confirm or deny it.

"So, you and Lex…? Since…?" she prompted.

"New Year's," Clark admitted, then added, "April since it went, uh, a little more serious. Chloe - I never meant for you to be hurt," he said earnestly.

She shook her head, fighting back the lump in her throat. "Hey, it wasn't serious, I just wondered - maybe hoped a little, you know," she said bravely. When he wrapped his arms around her, though, it was hard to stop a few tears from trickling through. He just held her silently, strong and reassuring, as always.

"Okay," she sniffed, after a moment, "so - what's the story?"

He let her go, shrugging wryly. "What's to tell, Chloe? I've always liked Lex, that's no secret. Just, sometime at the start of the year, I realized it was more than that, and so did he."

"Oh, he didn't realize anything of the sort," she returned tartly. "He's been well aware of it from Day One."

He grinned fleetingly. "Is that what you meant by eye-fucks?"

"I can't believe you didn't notice!"

"I might have. I don't think I believed, though. Besides, it was kind of hard to wrap my head around at first. I thought I was in love with Lana - you should know, you made enough fun of me!" he pointed out.

"I was jealous, okay?" she admitted, then grinned. "Though it's true you really never could get within ten feet of her without falling on your face. That was funny."

"Heartless woman," he grumbled.

"You should have taken it as a sign from Heaven," she said blithely.

"I guess I did, eventually." He heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry if it didn't point me to you."

She shrugged. "Well, you know, it's marginally better to know you've been rejected because the guy you like doesn't really dig girls, than to know there are lots of other girls he prefers to you."

"I don't know if I go for guys in general, either, you know," Clark said apologetically. "It just seems to be Lex."

"I am not going to ask what he's got anyone else doesn't," Chloe rolled her eyes. "Even I can see he's sexy as hell."

"Even you?" Clark teased. "Last time I looked, you were a girl."

She thumped his arm. "Don't piss me off, Kent."

"Sorry," he said demurely.

Chloe laughed. "It's so hard to stay angry with you, you know that? Do your folks know?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Remember Lex came to stay here for a couple of weeks in January, before buying the DeFries house? That was when it all started."

She was wide-eyed. "You mean this whole rebellion against LuthorCorp is part of - of him and you?"

He nodded.

"Wow. Clark Kent, source of the latest Industrial Revolution!" she marveled. "This summer - were you really with the circus, or were you with Lex?"

"Hey, those weren't faked photographs, you know," he pretended to be offended that she doubted him, then smirked at her suspicious expression. "I was with the circus - for about a week at either end of the vacation. In between I was living with Lex."

"So - tell all," she demanded avidly.

He raised dark eyebrows. "I hope you don't mean that."

"Of course I do."

"Chloe - I am not spelling out my sex life to you!"

"Aw!" she pouted, and then giggled as he turned beetroot red. "Well, at least I know for sure you've got a sex life these days."

He grew serious, swiftly. "Chloe - I wasn't kidding about the trouble both Lex and I could get into if anything got out. Please, I'm asking you, you mustn't let anything - not anything - slip."

She caught his mood and looked up at him, concerned. "Clark, how can you carry on a relationship like this?"

"Because it won't always be like this," he said with absolute certainty, "and because it's worth it. I don't know how to explain how. I just know that Lex is the one for me."

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/00006arr/)

 

She studied him for a long minute, then nodded minutely. "He'd better be, or he'll have me to deal with," she said bluntly. She tucked her arm in his. "Come on, let's go see what your mom's got cooked up before Pete finishes it all."

"Rice tart," Clark supplied, beaming, suddenly realizing that he was very happy to have someone with whom he could share such an important part of his life.

"What?"

He grinned. "Well, that's the translation. _Tarte au riz_. Sweet rice tart, if you prefer. Oh, look, you'll have to try it to get it. Trust me, the original was delicious, and if I know my Mom, she's improved on it."

**End Chapter 10  
**


	11. The Oak and the Cypress (11/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 11 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 5448  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

January, 2003

 

"Clark. Clark!"

The teenager hurried downstairs. "Mom?"

"The news… Listen."

She was excited, not upset, he judged. Something to do with Lex? But Lex would have warned him if anything really important were about to happen. He focused on the TV.

_"… mostly no major surprises at the start of the new session, with one exception. The state legislature, as has been rumored would happen for some time now, has repealed Kansas' sodomy laws, to fall in with more generally accepted guidelines on the matter of homosexual relations between consenting adults. As I said, not too big a surprise there, it's something that's certainly been in the pipeline for a couple of years now, and most commentators judged that it was merely a matter of time. However, where the surprise did come was in the new law required to set the legal age of consent. Some lobbyists were certainly hoping for sixteen, but generally, informed parties thought that Kansas would follow the example of several other states and maintain a disparity in the ages of consent for hetero- and homosexual partners. It was assumed, under the circumstances, that this would be set as high as possible, at twenty-one, using the Kansas Liquor Control Act as a precedent, but in a surprise simple majority vote, the legislature has opted for eighteen. Despite some measure of disappointment over the matter of differing ages of consent, this is a move which has brought generally congratulatory notices from gay and lesbian movements and from various civil rights movements both in the state and all around the country. Although inevitably…"_

Clark was stunned. Eighteen? Eighteen! He knew that Lex had not hoped for that much, and yet there it was. In just over a year, his relationship with Lex would be perfectly legal. He raced back upstairs for his cell phone, the one that was used exclusively to talk to Lex. He scowled - Lex would have called it more of a pout - when his call was refused. He knew this meant Lex was in a meeting, but he really wasn't in the mood to be rejected at this moment. He switched to text and keyed in a message:

**Lx pk up nw**

When he called again, Lex answered.

"Clark, this had better be good, I'm in a major meeting…"

"You haven't seen the news yet?"

"I've been kind of busy."

"Kansas State Legislature repealed the sodomy laws."

"So? I was expecting that," he replied with maddening sang-froid.

"That's not the best part, Lex. The age of consent is 18."

There was a prolonged silence.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Eighteen? You sure?"

"Absolutely. Just saw it on the six o'clock news."

There was another long silence, and then a low, husky laugh that did all sorts of wicked things to Clark, inside and out.

"Farmboy?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not going to interfere with your 18th birthday celebrations with your parents, but the first weekend after, we're going to Metropolis' fanciest, most in-view restaurant for dinner, and I'm going to let the whole fucking world see you and weep!" Lex declared, with that tone of low savagery that always set Clark's blood a-tingle.

"Your dad will freak," Clark half-laughed.

"My dad can - go do the other thing," he growled. "Besides, by that time I expect to be completely disaffiliated from him, anyway. If I want to take you to a club and fuck you on the dance floor, he can just lump it."

"Lex!" Clark gasped, and whimpered a little. "It's too early in the evening for this kind of thing."

Lex laughed. "Hey, you called me." His voice gentled. "You're right. I'm still at work, too."

Clark calmed down. "Yeah, I know. Sorry - but I really, really wanted you to know about it."

"I'm glad you did."

"When are you coming home?"

"Couple of weeks. Look, Clark, I'm sorry, I have to get back…"

"Yeah, okay," Clark agreed wistfully. "I miss you."

"Ditto, farmboy."

After Lex disconnected, Clark sat in his room for a few minutes more until he calmed down completely, then headed back downstairs. Martha looked up with a half-smile as he bounded down the stairs, clearly in a good mood.

"I take it he was pleased?" She didn't have to ask what he'd been doing.

Clark chuckled. "Speechless!" he announced cheerfully. "I can count the number of times I've seen Lex speechless on the fingers of one hand." He settled down to do his homework. "He said he'd be back in a couple of weeks. Is it okay if I ask him over to dinner?"

"Sure, honey," she agreed amiably. She liked Lex; he was usually good company at dinner, and she considered that such dinners were very gradually smoothing relations between Lex and Jonathan.

Clark hesitated a little before pursuing his line of thought. "Mom, is it going to be okay with you and Dad if - well, when - I come out after I'm eighteen?"

"Well, you kind of are out already, hon."

"To you guys. Hardly to anyone around here, anyone you actually know. That's gonna change fast. I mean, Chloe knows, but I'd like to tell my other friends as soon as I can. I wish I could do it now, but for Lex's sake, it's not possible, even though I don't like keeping something this important to me from them. Lex has plans to, um, go public in a big way, like, dinner in the most fashionable restaurant in Metropolis; since pretty well anything he does hits the papers, we'd definitely be outed together."

"Clark, you'll still have another year of school ahead of you. Are you sure you want to be out while still in school?" she asked dubiously.

"I don't care if the whole world knows about Lex and me. I'd shout it from the skyline of Metropolis if I could. If some of the kids in school have a problem with that, it's their loss, and I guess I'll know then who my real friends are. It's not like I've ever really been in the running for the popularity stakes there. Is it going to be okay with you, though?"

"Like you said, I guess we'll find out who our real friends are," she smiled faintly, but she was still hesitant about something, and after a moment, she voiced her concerns. "Clark - you seem very sure that you and Lex are still going to be together by then."

Clark gave her a shocked look. "Mom! Of course I'm sure! Look," he interrupted, as she was going to comment, "you don't get it. Lex - he's - you have to understand that in the past, sex was just - just something he used. For recreation, for business, whatever, it - it's just been another thing he's good at, that's been useful to him, but didn't really mean anything other than that, what he could get out of it. This is different. He's promised me, Mom. No more, no one else. Just me. He promised, and he doesn't do that lightly anymore."

"I realize that," Martha said, a little sadly. She sat at the table and took hold of her son's hands. "I've seen for some time that Lex is very deeply attached to you. That's maybe the problem, though. I'm a little scared for Lex…"

Clark went white. "You think that I'd…"

"I think you're very young, sweetheart," she interrupted him. "Lex kind of swept you off your feet. He didn't mean to, and now he's completely caught up in what you have. Right now, you mean everything you say, I'm sure of that, but - well, you've never been with a girl, and…"

"Mom, stop!" Clark was upset. "I can't believe you… you think I'm so shallow…"

"I don't! You're a good boy, Clark, and I know how loyal you are to your friends. Lex is proof enough of that, long before you got this close. You're still only sixteen, though. Lex himself would tell you that things change a whole lot, and very fast, for boys at that age…"

"Look, I know I had kind of crushes on Lana and Chloe - and I still like them both a lot, as friends - but Lex…." He faltered, embarrassed, but went on. "I found out that, um, things, um, happen to me when I, um, get excited. I just couldn't get… intimate with anybody without having to tell that person all about me. I can't imagine doing that, Mom. There's no one, no one I want to share that with, or have ever wanted to share it with. No one except Lex, and I wanted to tell him practically from the first day I knew him. It just took me a while to understand why. I hated lying to him, Mom, especially when it was so obvious he knew I was lying, and he just let it pass.

"I know what would happen if either Lana or Chloe got a clue. Lana - well, Lana just wouldn't want to know. She doesn't deal well with things that are too weird. As for Chloe, she's the complete opposite; she'd never back off. Dad used to say that Lex would hoard that kind of information - he hasn't taken a good look at Chloe, she'd do just the same thing. I don't think she'd tell, but she'd sort of gloat over knowing. First of all, I'd be scared she'd let something slip, and then I'd end up hating her for scaring me like that. Maybe I'm misjudging her, she's been pretty okay about knowing Lex and I are together, but - I still made it onto her Wall of Weird this year, you know, and I'm not too happy about that. As for Lana, I think I'd end up getting pretty ticked at her ostrich act. I don't like either scenario, Mom; I like them both and would like to keep them as friends. Compared to having to reveal I'm an alien, coming out as gay just isn't in the same league. Lex has just been cool about it all, and I'm happy with him."

That was one of the longest speeches Martha could ever recall hearing from her son, and it was a powerful indicator of how much he had matured over the last year. She patted his hands lightly.

"Okay, Clark, it sounds like you've really thought about it. Just… be a little careful of Lex. I don't mean that in the same way your father sometimes means it," she added quickly, as he frowned at her. "He's really left himself very vulnerable to you. Somewhere deep inside, there has to be a part of him which must be feeling a little scared about that - we both know how much he likes to be in control of everything around him - and that's dangerous, for both of you. If - if you ever fall out of love with him…"

"It's not going to happen, Mom."

That wasn't her growing adolescent son talking, full of juvenile confidence. That was a clear-eyed young man with an air of complete serenity about him that went beyond confidence. Maybe faith was the word she was looking for.

* * *

Lex was absent a good deal over the next few months, though he reappeared in town at irregular intervals. He was there for Clark's birthday, and took Clark away for the weekend to San Francisco. Afterwards, Martha couldn't pry anything out of her son about that trip, apart from some general tourist information, and Clark blushed like a peony every time he even thought about it, so she judged it best not to ask too many questions. Whatever it was they got up to, it hadn't made any of the newspapers, not even the sleaziest of the tabloid press, which was certainly a blessing.  
Spring break, however, when they had hoped to get away again like the previous year, turned out to be a bust - Lex could not leave for long enough - so when Clark clearly began considering their options for the summer, she supported him. Running away with the circus wasn't going to work for a second year.

Lex's next appearance at the Kent farmhouse was at the end of April, and he arrived about twenty minutes before Clark was due back from the grain warehouse. Martha was just returning from the fields herself, and smiled to find Lex sitting on the porch steps, reading a newspaper. He looked up with an answering smile upon hearing her approaching footsteps, and stood gracefully.

"You know, you could have made yourself comfortable inside, Lex."

"I don't like to presume. How are you?"

"You mean you don't get daily bulletins from Clark?" she teased, and he conceded the point silently, his smile turning a shade crooked. "Clark should be home pretty soon."

"I know, I talked to him at lunchtime. I hope you don't mind my turning up like this - I wasn't in the mood to go home just now."

"You've come straight from Metropolis?"

"Yes."

"Is something wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"No."

She cocked her head to look at him inquisitively. A year ago, she would not have been able to read the signs; now she could see that there was a little hint of tension pulling at the corners of his eyes and mouth. However, she didn't think she would get any more details for the moment.

"Of course I don't mind. You'll stay for dinner?"

"I'd love to, thank you."

"You're welcome, Lex," she smiled gently. "Well, come on inside, or you can go up to the loft, if you'd rather."

* * *

It was in the loft that Clark found him a little later, sifting curiously through some brochures sitting on the desk, an unfathomable expression on his face.

"Hey, Lex."

Clark's voice, as always when they were alone, was as soft and warm as a velvet caress, and Lex's half-smile was an almost automatic response. He was, however, worried, and held up the leaflets.

"Are you thinking of taking some kind of trip?" he asked bluntly.

Clark came up to him and took the leaflets from him to replace them on the desktop. "I'll tell you all about it over dinner, I promise." His strong fingers massaged Lex's shoulders gently. "Are you okay? You seem a little wired."

"Not surprising," he admitted ruefully. "Here." He pushed his newspaper into Clark's hands.

The relevant title leaped off the page at him: **LUTHORCORP ROCKED BY FRAUD ALLEGATIONS FROM ESTRANGED HEIR.**

He gave Lex a shocked look. "You're suing."

"You sound a little surprised. Did you think I wouldn't, in the end?"

Clark opened his mouth, shut it, then tried again. "I don't know. It's not that I thought you couldn't, I was just getting the feeling that maybe it wasn't necessary anymore. You're already in business for yourself, after all, and very successfully."

"I still want Rutherford Industries," Lex said quietly. "It will make a huge difference to my plans. You know, this isn't quite the reaction I was expecting from you, Clark. I thought you'd be glad for me."

"I am! I know you wouldn't take this on if you weren't very sure you'd win. It's just - the timing could be better," he said, a little plaintively.

"The timing? Why should the timing of my suit concern you just now?"

"Well, this means you're going to be really tied up over the summer, doesn't it?"

"As a matter of fact, not particularly. I expect to be pretty busy this coming month, yes, but after that it should be up to the defense to counter our case, and I won't really be needed much. I need to be able to show up if required, but that's what cell phones are for, after all, and forty-eight hours should see me back from anywhere I can think of off-hand. What's the problem with that?"

Clark's crestfallen look had vanished as if by magic. "Nothing at all," he beamed. It looked as if he was going to explain, but the dinner bell clanged noisily from the house, and he turned towards the stairs. "I'll tell you over dinner."

"Not even a clue?"

"It's just I thought that all my plans might be for nothing."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "Plans? You've been making plans?"

Clark stopped, and looked back, his expression reproachful and slightly hurt. "Lex!"

Lex knew he had goofed, and looked apologetic. "Sorry. I guess I'm just used to doing the planning for both of us."

"You can't have thought it'd always be that way," Clark huffed, still put-out. "There's two of us here, Lex; I should be able to pull my own weight."

Lex suppressed a humorous comment about Clark's strength that he knew would not be appreciated. Clark was right, of course; he had simply taken Lex off-guard, which meant that Lex had some ruffled feathers to soothe. He moved forward to the edge of the steps - Clark stood two steps lower - and reached out to stroke long fingers affectionately through Clark's shaggy black locks.

"You do, Clark. Don't you know I'd be lost without you?" He smiled a little. "So just call me a control freak…"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence, because Clark's arms were suddenly around him so tightly as to cut off his breath.

"No. I'm not going to call you a control freak ever again, and I'm sorry I ever did," Clark said in his ear, with soft intensity.

Lex was a little startled. "Clark - I've never minded. We both know it's true."

"You're not any kind of freak, Lex, and I don't ever want to hear you call yourself one again."

With that, he kissed Lex until he thought his skeleton had melted.

"Have you got that?" Clark asked, what felt like a century later, when the only thing holding Lex up were Clark's arms. "Lex? Have you got that?" he repeated, when Lex did not respond immediately.

"Yes, Clark," Lex replied, more than a little dazed.

"Good."

Face buried against Clark's shoulder, Lex smiled faintly at the smug tone in the teenager's voice. He let Clark take liberties he had permitted no other person - but then Clark was like no other lover he had ever had.

His reflections were interrupted by Martha's voice from outside.

"Boys? Didn't you hear the bell? Don't make me come up there and get you."

Lex sighed heavily. "Damn it…."

Clark chuckled softly, his lips brushing against Lex's scalp teasingly. "You wouldn't have let it go any further, anyway."

"You have touching faith in my self-control, considering you've just liquefied me."

"Eew, that's an image I could do without. Way to spoil the moment, Lex," Clark grumbled. He drew back a little and called out, "We'll be right there, Mom!"

"Thank God you didn't say 'coming'," Lex commented in an undertone.

"See, I know you're okay when you get sarcastic on me," Clark smiled.

He let go, and touched Lex's mouth fleetingly before heading back down the stairs again. Lex smoothed down his barely-creased clothing in a self-conscious gesture, licked his lips and followed him.

"So, about these plans…?"

"Ha, if you think I'm telling you anything now before we've had dinner, you can think again," Clark shot back.

Lex scowled at the long back. "Prick-tease," he muttered under his breath.

His plans to get Clark to spill the beans sooner rather than later were derailed by the unusual affability of Jonathan Kent's manner towards him as they sat down to dinner. For the first time since they had met, the farmer was actually mildly friendly towards him, and Lex was completely nonplussed as to why this might be.

He couldn't take the uncertainty for long, and as Martha was passing round the vegetables, he opted for frankness.

"Mr. Kent, have I done something right for once?"

Martha gave him a rather shocked look. "Lex!"

"Well, I'm sorry," Lex said to her, "but your husband hasn't been this civil to me since… never, basically, and I'm a little confused here."

"I suppose I deserved that," Jonathan said ruefully. "I was talking to Gabe Sullivan this morning."

Lex's face tightened a little in annoyance. "I asked him not to talk about anything to anyone yet."

"I got the impression that he thought we might already know, if that's any help."

Lex blinked. "I can't imagine why."

"Um - is this about the plant?" Clark asked hesitantly. "Because that might be because I told Chloe a while back that you, uh, had more plans for the place."

He flinched a little as Lex turned puzzled eyes on him.

"I haven't told you any specific plans."

"No, but I knew you had some, you've never hidden that from me."

"No - but what does Chloe have to do with all that?"

Clark swallowed. "Uh - she knows about us."

He knew the expression about hearing a pin drop, but had never realized how appropriate it could be. His parents were aware that Chloe knew about his affair with Lex - he had let that slip to his mother a while back, and he was sure she had told his father - but he had never mentioned it before to Lex, and they knew that, too.

"She worked it out for herself," he went on hastily, "last year, when you brought the Lamborghini around for the first time, remember? I still don't quite understand what she saw that no one else has, but she just knew, and she was so mad at me, and I couldn't lie to her, really, I couldn't. She was talking about you, um, 'stealing' me, and I couldn't hear that, it was so unfair, so I told her that if everyone at the plant still had a job it was because of you, and that you still had plans which would make things even better, even if I didn't know what exactly, but that she should just trust that you wanted what was best and you always would and…"

Lex gave a faint snort of laughter, breaking the tension, and reached across the table to pat Clark's hand lightly. "Breathe, Clark," he recommended kindly, and smiled wryly when Clark just looked at him with huge, doe eyes. "So Chloe's known about us since last November?"

Clark nodded, and Lex smoothed a hand over his scalp, his expression a complex mix of amusement, concern and resignation.

"I have to admit I'm impressed. I didn't think she could keep any kind of major secret to herself for long - she practically lives to expose them, from what I've seen - yet she's never even let on to me that she had any notion how things stood between us."

"She's my friend, Lex, she wouldn't want to hurt me."

"Yes, but she doesn't always give too much thought as to what might cause hurt. She's a true journalist. She'll dig for what she needs, and not always care too much what else gets thrown up in the digging. You've had your problems with the way she operates in the past."

"When she didn't know what was at stake. This time, she does, and she knows she could only do us harm."

Lex watched him for a moment, then smiled faintly, nodding. "Okay."

"She doesn't know anything about - you know," he added quickly.

"I know." He was still smiling, his expression tender. "I think, on the whole, I'm glad you have someone you can share at least some of this with."

"Excuse me," Martha interrupted, in a mock-offended tone, "Clark has his parents."

Lex's smile broadened as he looked at her. "Oh, please, no child on earth willingly talks to his parents about his sex life."

"Yeah, and I'm not going to be the first," Clark objected promptly, glaring at his lover. "Besides, what does this have to do with whatever's happening at the plant?"

"Lex is backing an employee buy-out of the business from Wayne Enterprises," Jonathan supplied, relieved to bring the conversation back out of an area in which he preferred not to stray. He looked at the younger man. "I'd like to understand why, exactly. Why not just buy the plant back outright?"

"I can't afford to right now," he replied honestly. "It may not seem like much to you, but that 10-15% the employees can come up with makes a big difference to me at the moment. Also - I thought it was probably the right thing for Smallville. I thought it might give the town some stability, to have that workforce actually invested in the plant. Wayne Enterprises couldn't keep it; a fertilizer plant just isn't in their normal attributions, and the reason it's continued to do well is because the W.E. managers Lucius Fox put in are following my plans for the place to the letter. Once those contingencies are exhausted, they'd be on their own, and W.E. just doesn't have the basis to run that kind of business. I do, though, and as the situation improves, I'll continue to release stock for employee purchase, until we're on a more level footing. Of course it's a big responsibility, but sometimes that's just the kind of thing needed to promote interest and concern, and get the best from both management and the workforce."

"I think you're right - it does a man good to feel that he's working for himself, long term, and not for some faceless corporation," Jonathan agreed.

Clark looked on, wondering and amused, as for the first time his father and his lover actually seemed to be in accord over something, and Jonathan seemed to be putting aside his long-held prejudices against the Luthor name. Every so often, he wanted to join in, but his mother would nudge him sharply, adding a warning glance, indicating they should just let the other two get on with it.

Much later, talk came around again to Lex's court case, and he elaborated a little on what he expected to happen over the next few weeks.

"I don't get the sudden interest in how tied up or not I'm going to be this summer," he remarked finally. "I will be around - it's not as if I'm planning to disappear off the face of the earth, you know."

"I think the question is, could you?" Martha asked.

He gave her a startled look. "Excuse me?"

"Could you go away for a while?" At the sudden flash of panic he wasn't quite able to conceal, she made a flustered gesture. "Oh, no, that came out wrong. I meant, would you be able to leave here for a few weeks while the case is being heard?"

Watching Lex's face, Clark intervened quickly.

"Mom, that's still coming out wrong. Lex, I told you I'd been making plans." He was relieved when the pale eyes focused on him attentively, some of the anxiety fading from them to be replaced by the trust Lex usually showed in him. "Ever since things fell apart over Spring break, I've been wondering how we could spend the summer together, like last year, and I think I've worked something out. That's why I was worried when the case came up. I thought it would pin you down here, in Metropolis, I mean, until it was all over. Also, I wasn't sure if you'd, you know, had some ideas yourself, but you hadn't said anything…"

Lex shook his head a little. "I haven't had much time to give it any thought." He looked at the senior Kents a little curiously. "You, uh, know all about this?"

"As a matter of fact," Martha said, "it's because of something that was said to us that Clark got the idea in the first place. Because of Clark's change in curriculum this year, and the very good results he's been getting in language classes, his teachers suggested that we should think about sending him abroad during the summer. They suggested summer school in Europe. At first, I admit, we didn't take it too seriously, but then Clark started looking into the details."

"There are grants available, good ones, covering travel and tuition, and a living allowance. That's what the brochures in the loft were about, places where summer courses are run. I've found some really interesting possibilities - three-week deals, morning classes only, Monday to Saturday. France, of course, but I thought maybe, if you were free, I could stay over there and take in a second course. I thought of Spain at first, but there didn't seem to be so much choice available, and then I thought maybe I could do an introductory course in Italian…"

"I'd love to show you Italy," Lex said softly, his eyes bright.

Clark smiled shyly. "Well, it's based partly on results throughout the year and partly on a special exam, which I've already taken. I should get the results in a week or two, but they're saying at school that it's looking very good. Once it's confirmed, I just need to pick where and when. You could help me do that, pick the right places, and there'd be a couple of weeks in between the courses and we could do some touring…. It'd be different in Europe, right? I mean, we wouldn't have to hide, really, not like last year?"

"Oh, there's still prejudice, but the laws are pretty liberal, yes, especially if you have parental consent. Also, they tend to be a lot stronger on the right to privacy, particularly in France. I can't vouch for your fellow students, though." Lex reached out across the table to put his hand over Clark's.

"I won't care if you're there." He shrugged, smiling again, and turned his hand to clasp Lex's fingers. "Besides, it'll be good practice for next year, when we're out."

"You know I'll be… very unhappy with anyone who hurts you?"

"I'll just have to get you to curb your more bloodthirsty tendencies," Clark said solemnly.

Jonathan cleared his throat loudly. It was obvious the boys had completely forgotten they were in company, and judging from the poorly suppressed smirk hovering on Lex's lips, this conversation was again on the verge of wandering into too-much-information territory.

Lex sat back, reluctantly withdrawing his hand from Clark's hold, and his brief, flashing, sideways glance towards Jonathan was not particularly kind, but he looked resigned, on the whole.

"I'll double-check with Walter Carr regarding what he expects of me, but as plans go, it's a good one, Clark," he said. "You do know you don't actually need a scholarship for this," he added simply.

"Don't start with that," Jonathan growled.

"Are we going to have another argument about funding a part-timer to fill in for Clark over the summer?" Lex challenged him flatly.

"Will you two stop that?" Martha said exasperatedly. "You've been doing so well tonight, too. No, we don't need help with a part-timer this year, thank you, Lex; business has taken a definite up-swing."

"A lot more orders from Metropolis," Jonathan commented, his tone grudging.

Lex shot him an irritated look. "The only possible influence I might have had is word-of-mouth, and I would think by now you'd know that my appreciation of the produce from this farm is completely genuine. God knows, I'm only too happy to be fed here, even if I don't eat enough to please Mrs. Kent. So if I choose to tell some restaurateur in Metropolis that I've had better asparagus from a supplier in Smallville than he's getting from Holland, it's the strict truth."

"Word of mouth is certainly a major factor in how our businesses work around here," Martha added, in support. "Jonathan, would you please shelve the attitude? Lex, it's right that Clark should work, one way or another, to get what he wants. We can accept that if you're going to be together over this summer, the dorm arrangements most of these summer students will have won't suit you, and you'll organize things otherwise, but as to the scholarships generally - don't take away Clark's achievement in earning them."

Soberly, Lex nodded. "That wasn't my intention, Martha, but you're right, of course." He hesitated briefly, then went on. "You're surprisingly accepting of this. Last year was different. Basically, we sneaked off, and even you didn't quite know where we were, nor were you in contact. This time, you'll know where Clark is, and that we're together. Are you sure you're all right with this?"

"We'll manage. Just bear in mind that this is not meant to be just a vacation. We are expecting that Clark'll be doing some studying," Martha warned.  
Lex was going to reply, and thought better of it, shutting his mouth with a sly little smile.

"Not that," she said crisply.

"Perish the thought," he responded promptly.

Clark sniggered.

**End Chapter Eleven**


	12. The Oak and the Cypress (12/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 12 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 2562  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/), angelinred

 **Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17 (definitely)  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

 **Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

 **Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

 **Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

 

That was how Clark came to be phoning home, sitting on the bed in a sun-drenched bedroom in Rome, on an August afternoon.

"Hi, Mom."

"Clark!" She laughed. "Where are you now?"

"We just got to Rome. Classes start on Monday, and we're getting settled in."

"Your last postcard just got here. How was your trip down through Italy?"

"Fantastic! There's so much to see. I've just been scratching the surface here, but…"

Clark launched into a detailed and enthusiastic description of just about everything they had seen and done since crossing the border. Lex, quietly unpacking their bags, began to smile, and finally had to laugh.

"Clark," he said out loud, "you're starting to sound like Frommer's Travel Guide."

Clark stopped mid-spiel, and shot him a dirty look. He grinned when he heard his mother's chuckle.

"Lex is being his usual sarcastic self, I take it," she commented, amused.

"Uh, yeah. I guess I was going on a bit, though. Sorry, Mom."

"No, no, I was enjoying it. Envying you, a little," she admitted a touch wistfully. "You sound like you're having a lot of fun."

"Yeah, I am. The classes have been good - it'll be interesting to start Italian, I've been picking up some already - and the tourism's incredible, but it's not just that. It's really nice being with Lex like this. Not having to be so careful all the time."

Lex's expression was infinitely tender, a look Clark knew was only for him.

"I'm sure it is," Martha said gently, the indulgent smile evident in her voice. "Have you got somewhere nice to stay? No, wait," she chuckled, "that's a silly question. Of course you do. What are you going to be doing this weekend?"

"A bit of scouting around, find out where the college is, how the public transportation works, that kind of thing. We're meeting someone for dinner tonight, someone Lex wants to catch - a former tutor, I think."

They talked a little longer, then Martha wound things up.

"It's good to hear from you, honey. You'll call next week? Say 'hi' to Lex for me."

"I will. Give my love to Dad." When he had hung up, he smiled up at Lex. "Mom says 'hi'."

Lex half-smiled and nodded, and came over to the bed. He pushed Clark's shoulders so that he fell back to the covers, grinning widely, and straddled him, his expression sultry.

"Now that you've got the duty call out of the way, can we get down to more serious business?"

"More serious business?" Clark queried lightly. "Hey, what about sight-seeing? I thought that's what this was all about…"

"Clark, it's three-thirty in the afternoon. You've been in Italy long enough to know that everyone is having a siesta right now. So, as they say, when in Rome…" His deft fingers were untucking Clark's T-shirt.

"The Romans are doing their boyfriends right now?" Clark joked, arching his back a little to let Lex peel the shirt off him.

"Undoubtedly," he replied promptly, fingers trailing teasingly over Clark's bare torso.

"Isn't that a little strenuous, for a siesta?" His breath caught as Lex's fingers brushed over his nipples.

"Who could possibly think of sleeping when there's this magnificent," he leaned in for a kiss, "black-haired," and another, "pouty-lipped," and a quick nip to one rosy teat, that had Clark surging up briefly, "sun-dappled," Lex's fingers were at the fastening of Clark's jeans, and sliding them off, "demi-god," and his fingers slid into Clark's boxers and around his rapidly hardening shaft, "in the bed?"

Clark could only moan and arch into Lex's knowing touch. Lex liked this, arousing Clark so swiftly and bringing him off so that he could watch his young lover come, which he did, with a gasp of pleasure.

When Clark opened his eyes again, Lex was still straddling him, an expression of almost feline contentment on his face, and he was licking Clark's come from his hand with slow, sensual licks.

"Lex!" Clark gasped, and he was hard again, just like that. Lex laughed very softly. "God - you're overdressed!" Clark pouted.

Lex just gave him his little half-smile, the one that drove Clark crazy, and got off the bed to strip in a leisurely, seductive fashion, giving Clark his own show. Clark loved to watch him, he was so graceful, all sleek, lean lines and pale, beautiful skin, and then the revelation of that flaming triangle. Clark now knew from experience that it was a strange and beautiful texture, soft and dry, and it made his fingers itch to curl themselves into the fine hairs. Judging from the slow burn in Lex's eyes, he knew exactly what Clark was thinking, too, but that hardly surprised him. They were very closely attuned sexually, something they had discovered right away, during their 'honeymoon', and which was confirmed every time they got together subsequently. In a flurry of activity, Clark kicked off his jeans and boxers that were now tangled around his calves and sat up, reaching for Lex hungrily.

Lex let himself be caught. He never teased Clark for long; Clark could be unpredictable when he was seriously on edge, and once or twice Lex had found himself on the receiving end of some unusually rough sex. He had enjoyed it thoroughly, but Clark had felt decidedly guilty afterwards, and Lex had realized that it was going to be a while before Clark was comfortable with that kind of activity. He figured that it came too close to losing control for the super-powered teenager's peace of mind. He let himself go down in a tangle of limbs, straining sensually against Clark's bigger frame, their mouths locked together passionately, but he broke with a laugh when he felt Clark press the tube of lube into his hands.

"Pushy bottom," he teased. It was an old joke between them now. Clark just grinned, scrambled up on all fours and presented himself irresistibly to Lex.

"Now, that's what I call an offer I can't refuse," Lex sighed, running an appreciative hand over the perfect curve of Clark's ass.

In a few minutes, he was balls-deep in Clark's body, reveling in the heat and tight grip of Clark's ass, while Clark was whimpering with pleasure as Lex fucked him slow and deep.

Clark had been afraid at one point that his increasing invulnerability would make it difficult for him to actually experience sex properly, depriving him of any of the sensations that were designed to bring pleasure. He had, however, discovered during solo experimentation, even before becoming Lex's lover, that arousal increased the sensitivity of his skin, enough to let him enjoy and appreciate being handled, kissed and even bitten. Lex still wasn't able to leave hickeys that lasted more than about five minutes after they had finished making love, but he was, however, able to inflict them pleasurably. They had also both discovered, with enormous glee, that Clark was extremely anal-sensitive once aroused which was, of course, why he had turned out to be such a 'pushy bottom'. So when Lex fucked him hard, he felt it, felt every deep thrust, felt the pounding of his prostate, felt the slick velvet steel of Lex's shaft in his body, and the burn to the ring of his anus as his flesh was pushed apart by Lex's cock or fingers. He gave a howl of rapture as Lex came suddenly in him, the hot gushes of his seed filling Clark's passage.

He howled again, in loss, when Lex pulled out, only to have to muffle a scream of unendurable delight when Lex's hard fingers parted his buttocks, and he felt Lex's tongue probe him intimately, seeking out the load he had just deposited. The first time Lex had done this to him, Clark had nearly hit the ceiling in ecstasy; the impact was just as strong on each subsequent occasion, Clark's incredibly responsive anus throbbing with excitement from Lex's hard, strong tonguing. As he was rimmed, Clark came copiously, and was hard again almost instantly, anticipating the slide of Lex's free hand beneath him to clasp his cock firmly. He hardly needed the additional stimulation of Lex's fist, but it all just added to the pleasure.

Soon Lex, profoundly stimulated himself by the fluttering of Clark's anus around his tongue, would be hard once more, and he would roll Clark onto his back, grab his ankles to spread his legs wide apart, plunge into him and fuck him hard and fast. He knew it, and he knew he would never tire of it, of being so thoroughly possessed by his lover. He loved the fuckings, whether slow or fast, loved the attention Lex lavished on his body, the heights to which Lex brought him again and again, and above all, the faint ache left in him, and the drowsy satiation of the afterglow. The ache never lasted long, as his body rapidly reverted to its normal condition once the heat of passion had worn off, but it was long enough; long enough for Clark to feel human, normal.

* * *

Much later, Clark stirred slothfully.

"Wow," he croaked.

There was a deep chuckle from somewhere over his breastbone.

"Enjoy yourself?"

"Mm-hm." Clark could feel the beatific smile spreading over his face.

Lex stroked his thigh languidly. "I'm going to miss it when your adolescent hormones finally settle down."

"Maybe they won't."

"Hmm?"

"Maybe they won't settle down. I mean, we don't know, do we? Maybe I'll always be like this."

Lex laughed huskily. "A life-long teenage libido - talk about wet dreams." He pressed a kiss against Clark's smooth chest. "You've already got so many advantages over the rest of us, that'd just be grossly unfair."

"Maybe. On the other hand, you'd get all the benefit of it," Clark smiled, and kissed the smooth scalp tucked beneath his chin. "Thank you," he said lazily.

"Any time, farmboy."

Clark grinned. "You mean that, too."

"Of course." Lex nibbled idly at the rosy nipple that was just conveniently situated where his mouth could reach it without stirring himself too much. "Why do you thank me, after we've made love? You don't need to; you do know I get just as much out of it as you do, right?"

"Not quite. There's one thing you don't get, because you don't need it. You know what happens to me when you turn me on. You make me human."

Lex sighed, and propped his chin on Clark's chest so he could look up at him. "Clark, I don't make you anything, you just are. Two things; first of all, there was another occasion on which you were 'human,' as you call it, and I didn't get the impression you were enjoying yourself too much then. Secondly, if you're inhuman, then it's a pity there aren't a lot more inhuman people like you around; the world would be a much better place. You don't 'become human' when we make love, you just become receptive. Truth to tell, I'm kind of reassured that Mother Nature appears to function similarly regardless of what planet anyone's from. She still made sure you'd enjoy screwing your brains out," he smirked.

Clark's lips twisted in a wry smile. "If it was continuance of the species She was after, She might have thought to wire me straight, though."

"Hey, no one's perfect, not even gods. I'm pretty glad you're exactly the way you are." He stretched a little, then slowly detached himself from Clark's large, warm body with his usual reluctance, reaching for his watch. "Time to get moving. We've still got to find that restaurant."

"Who is this guy we're meeting tonight?"

"Oh, Roberto was my tutor in French and Italian when I was in London. He was a teaching assistant then, working on his Ph.D. He's made it to Associate Professor here, which isn't bad considering he's only - let's see - 35."

There was something Lex wasn't telling Clark yet, something that lifted the corners of his mouth just a little, and put an amused glint in his eyes.

"Why do I get the feeling he taught you something more than French and Italian?" Clark asked flat out.

From the door of the bathroom, Lex tossed a laughing glance back over his shoulder. "Smart boy," he said mockingly.

Pole-axed, Clark lay there for several minutes, listening to the sound of the water running. Then he got up abruptly and stalked into the bathroom. Opening the door of the shower stall would merely result in flooding the room, so he addressed himself to the silhouette of his lover.

"Let me get this straight. We're going to have dinner with one of your exes?"

"My first ex, as a matter of fact," Lex replied calmly. "Well, my first male ex," he corrected.

Clark floundered again. "How old were you, for God's sake? You told me you went to college in London at 15."

"I was 16. I took the extra courses in my second year. Wasn't being challenged enough in my regular studies, and as you know, a bored Lex is a dangerous Lex." The shower water stopped and he pushed the door open. "Seeing as you're standing there, pass me a towel?"

Clark complied, still rather stunned. "He was… 28?"

"Yep."

"Lex!"

From under the towel, laughing gray-blue eyes regarded him. "You know, Clark, I find this line of conversation a little ironic, under the circumstances."

"Five years isn't the same as twelve! Damn it, Lex, you were the one who thought you were too old for me!"

"That's true," Lex conceded. "That's because you were such a glorious innocent. Still are, in many ways, despite being an equally glorious slut in bed," he added fondly. He chuckled when Clark blushed hotly. "Relax, Clark. I'm just teasing a little. Roberto did indeed introduce me to the joys of gay sex, but I wasn't exactly a virgin, only to men. You know I never did 'innocent'. We had a very pleasant fling, which lasted about four months, and parted on good terms at the end of that time. We've stayed friends, but there's nothing sexual between us anymore. I would have felt remiss coming to Rome and not trying to see him, and in any case, I wanted you to meet." The teasing note faded. "I've told you before, I have never had very many real friends. You're at the top of the list. I do count Roberto among them, however, and I would like my friends to know and like each other. He's a good man, Clark, I'm sure you'll like him."

Clark was a little abashed. "I'm sorry, Lex," he mumbled sheepishly.

Cool arms slid around his neck. "I like it that you're a little jealous," Lex smiled.

"Silly of me…" he muttered, red-faced.

"Very sweet," Lex soothed, the humor back in his voice.

"I'll behave myself," Clark promised.

"You always do, love." Lex laughed a little. "I don't know if I can promise the same for Roberto. He's going to adore you."

"Lex!"

This time, the laugh was decidedly wicked. "I love the way you say my name when you're shocked."

"You're going to embarrass the hell out of me tonight, aren't you?" Clark asked piteously.

"Probably, farmboy, probably," Lex agreed, without a qualm.

"You're an evil man, Lex Luthor."

"I've been telling you that for ages."

 **End Chapter Twelve  
**


	13. The Oak and the Cypress (13/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 13 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 5669  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

 **Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17 (definitely)  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

 **Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

 **Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

 **Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

 

Lex had told Clark to dress up, and had nodded approval when Clark had picked out dark blue dress slacks and a royal blue, long-sleeved, cotton shirt. They found their way to the restaurant, which turned out to be ostentatiously discreet, in a contradictory way. Lex certainly had that faint smirk again as he took in the atmosphere while they waited behind two other parties for the maitre d'hôtel.

"What?" Clark whispered.

"Designer gay chic," Lex murmured back. "European style. Haven't seen this in a while."

"Gay?"

"Take a look around."

Clark wasn't quite sure what he was looking for, except he did realize that the clientele was very dominantly - as in about 95% - male. Then he took in something else. "The waiters are all… very pretty."

Lex chuckled faintly.

The maitre d'hôtel turned his lofty gaze on them, evidently not quite sure what to make of them. They were very young, but on the other hand the clothes were good and stylish. Then Lex raised his head, with what Clark occasionally called his 'fuck-you' manner, and the maitre d'hôtel recognized power.

"We have reservations in the name of Professor Granforte. He may already be here," Lex said in Italian.

The maitre d'hôtel recognized the reservation immediately, and indeed Professor Granforte had already arrived, he assured the young men, leading them to one of the booth tables.

The man who stood to greet them, every expression of delight on his face, could have been a matinee idol. He was tall, fit, dark and handsome, with a superb Roman profile and flashing dark eyes. Clark had to fight back a wave of vague jealousy once again.

 _"Alessandro, carissimo!"_ the Italian exclaimed joyously, and embraced Lex fervently. "Ever perfect."

Lex submitted to the embrace with smiling forbearance. "Thank you, Roberto, you're not looking too shabby yourself." He detached himself lightly. "Let me introduce you. Clark, this is Professor Roberto Granforte. Roberto, my friend Clark Kent."

Granforte looked Clark up and down with undisguised appreciation. _"Che bello ragazzo!_ A pleasure to meet you, Signor Kent."

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/00007kbe/)

 

"Hands off, Roberto," Lex warned dryly, "he's taken."

The Italian sighed extravagantly, his dark gaze still lingering over Clark's tall frame. "But of course. You always did have perfect taste, Lex."

Clark suddenly laughed, and the slight tension was broken. He shook the professor's hand, liking the Italian's broad smile and laughing eyes.

"Good," Roberto approved. _"Sedetevi, giovani."_

They took opposing seats, flanking Roberto. Lex was smiling crookedly. "I hardly think I qualify as a boy, Roberto, not any more."

"Alas," Roberto sighed theatrically, "you seem even more of a boy now than you did when I first met you. Nothing to do with your age, _caro_ Lex, and everything to do with my ever-advancing years."

Lex looked across the table at Clark. "I'm sure you've already realized that Roberto is a ham of the first order," he commented dryly, "but even I have to acknowledge that he's really milking this."

Clark's smile turned deceptively demure. "Maybe I'm seeing just where you get your occasional airs of tragedy queen from, Lex," he said innocently. "I was pretty sure it wasn't from your dad."

Roberto roared with laughter as Lex gave an astonished - and delighted - gasp at the boldness of Clark's counter. "Not just a pretty face, I see. Bravo, Signor Kent, it takes something special to stand up to our dear Alessandro."

"It's Clark, please," Clark corrected, smiling shyly, his glance sliding sideways towards Lex, whose smoldering gaze promised retribution - of the sweetest sort - at a later date.

A waiter coming up with the menu provided distraction, and for some time thereafter the discussion was wholly centered on food. Clark had gotten into the habit of reading through a menu, taking note of what he thought looked interesting, and then asking Lex about it, and followed the same procedure here. He did not notice, at first, Roberto's increasingly interested glances - not the sexual appreciation of their initial meeting, but a cooler, more intellectual interest. Lex did and waited, amused, for the reaction after the waiter had taken their order.

"Your accent is very good, Clark, are you studying Italian?" Roberto asked.

"No, not yet - French and Spanish, though I've only just started the latter. I'm here for a beginner's course in Italian, though, starting Monday."

"You had no Italian at all prior to coming here?"

Clark smiled shyly. "I guess I've picked up the sound a little."

"More than a little. The menu was not translated. You did not ask for explanations, you knew at least what all the words were, even if you asked about the preparations. I am impressed," he said honestly.

Clark suddenly didn't know where to put himself, and Lex laughed softly.

"Meet the finest linguistic ear I've ever come across in my life, Roberto," he said, his tone fond and proud. "When we first had time away together, we went to the Côte Vermeille in France. In four days he was getting by with the locals in a rudimentary form of Catalan. He's just refined his school-taught French to about 2nd or 3rd year college level after three weeks' summer school in Aix-en-Provence, and as he said, he's about to start a similar course in Italian here. He already has a decent basic grasp of colloquial grammar, and an astonishing vocabulary, and he's only been in the country a week. I almost wish you could come back home with us. Six months of your teaching, and he'd be more fluent in all four of your Romance languages than any of your final year students."

"Lex…!" Clark protested faintly, too embarrassed for words.

Roberto was genuinely interested, however, and soon managed to put the teenager at ease while getting him to talk about his learning experience in languages. Lex, content with the turn of conversation, listened, and sometimes prompted when Clark became too self-conscious again and faltered.  
It was in the pause between the main course and dessert, as Lex and Roberto were finishing their wine, that the older man turned his chocolate-dark gaze on his former pupil.

"You have been diverting me very nicely from your own situation, caro mio. When I heard you were coming to Rome, to say that I was surprised would have been an understatement. I have been hearing the news - there is much turmoil in Metropolis, no?"

"Do you wonder I wanted to get away for a little while?" Lex countered calmly.

"No - but that is not usually your way. You are aggressive, Lex, you like to make the first moves if you can. You do not simply shut the world out for a few weeks."

"There wasn't a lot else I could do at the moment. Also there's too much public attention on me back home right now. Clark and I don't get as much time together as we'd like; this was a good opportunity."

Roberto narrowed his eyes. "Lex? Please tell me this beautiful boy is old enough…?"

Lex laughed. "Trust you to jump to that conclusion. Yes, he's old enough. Well, after a fashion. We just happen to live in a backward little state…"

"Hey!" Clark protested mildly, but Lex just silenced him with a fond glare.

"Where it has only just become legal for two people of the same gender to indulge in a physical relationship," he went on, "and at that, they both need to be 18 or over, which Clark won't be until next March. So at home Clark and I have to behave like innocent best friends and perfect gentlemen. If we have anything else in mind, we have to get out of state. Apart from a little birthday trip this year, we haven't really been together since last summer, and we were both sick of it. I've got my limits, too; I needed the break."

Roberto nodded. "You are fortunate the law changed. If it had not, what were you going to do?"

"Move," Clark said simply. "Lex, you know I'd move anywhere you want, don't you?"

Lex nodded slowly, a gentle smile touching his mouth. "Yes, I know. Funny as it may sound coming from me, though, Metropolis is my home, and after that, Smallville. Kansas, at any rate." He looked back at Roberto. "There was nothing fortunate about it, though, Roberto. I put a lot of work into getting those laws changed."

Clark's eyes were wide. "You were actually campaigning? I knew you were expecting it, but you never told me you were actually working at it."

"Didn't I? Oh, no, that's right, it's your mother I told." Lex shrugged. "Lobbying would be more accurate."

"Because of me?"

"Sorry, no," Lex smirked a little. "I got fed up, when I was 17, back in Metropolis, getting bailed out of jail by my father's lawyers just for having a little fun. I hated it out of contrariness when I was a kid, and then I just deeply resented being dictated to as to whom I could or could not sleep with. That said, age did matter, to some extent - I knew what I wanted early on, but that's just me. Others don't always, and I accept children need protection. I never actually slept with anyone younger than me, not being a natural chicken-hawk, unlike Roberto here," he added slyly, ignoring the older man's squawk of outrage.

"Until me."

"Until you," Lex agreed. His smile softened, his gaze caressing as it touched on Clark's face. "You really tested me, you know? I was not impressed with my self-control."

"I was. You never touched me before I was of age, Lex," Clark objected softly.

"That's not strictly true."

"We kissed a few times. I tried to test you…"

Lex's expression was fond. "If you weren't such an innocent, you'd probably have succeeded."

Roberto gave him an intrigued look. "This is a side of you I have never seen. You have been together all this time, but not - and you are not remotely afraid that Clark might look elsewhere for more readily available companionship?"

"I wouldn't!" Clark exclaimed, upset.

Unrepentant, Roberto turned his dark eyes on the boy. "Nor do you worry that Lex will get bored?"

"No, I'm not worried," he said defiantly, and a little angrily.

Lex reached out to touch his hand lightly, soothingly. "You don't know Clark," he said evenly to his former tutor.

Clark did not resist the quiet appeal, and twined his fingers with his lover's, smiling deeply into Lex's eyes.

" _Ahì,_ " Roberto said melodramatically, _"qual paio di colombi!"_

Clark, surprised, thought about that. "Pigeons?" That didn't sound quite right, as a translation.

Lex snorted in amused disgust. "He called us a pair of turtledoves! Roberto, you can be really horribly sentimental at times!"

Roberto dismissed the criticism with an airy wave of a hand, and laughed softly. "Such devotion. Oh, well, Lex, I always knew you were an original. I should have guessed that when you finally gave that secret heart of yours, it would be to another such original." He settled back in the booth. "So, what are your plans for the future?" he asked both of them.

Lex casually indicated that Clark should go first.

"What plans?" Clark smiled wryly, relaxing again. "I've still got another two years of school."

"You have had no thought about what you wish to do with your life?"

"Not really. It kinda seems like a long way off."

"You will find that these two years go by very much faster than you expect. You have no strong inclination for a particular topic? Obviously you have a gift for languages."

"I didn't know that until last year. A lot's changed over the last eighteen months," he said shyly. "I have thought a bit about journalism…" Roberto nodded encouragingly when he trailed off, and Clark shrugged a little awkwardly. "I've been working on the student newspaper at school. I think, though, I've come to realize that what I like is when I get the chance to do in-depth articles, when I've got a little time to study the subject more deeply, and a bit more space to write it up. It seems to me that, well - I don't know if I'd ever get to do that. Isn't it only very, very big names who get to do that?"

"Hmmm - not necessarily. It is true that academia is definitely a shark-infested pool," he smiled ironically, "but one learns how to negotiate the depths and shallows. However, it sounds to me as if you would prefer a more practical application, not something that will cloister you in the proverbial ivory tower."

"You mean like just teach, and write books?"

"Yes, a life revolving wholly around classrooms and libraries, although unearthing treasures in private collections has its attractions, I would be the first to admit."

"No, I don't think I'd be very happy with that. I, uh, need to be doing things. I mean, I get it that research is really important, but…"

"But there is research and research, of course," he agreed. "You might consider some of the other social sciences a little more carefully," he advised thoughtfully. "Although there are many that seem unnecessarily specialized, they can, on the other hand, eventually lead back to more practical applications. I am thinking, for example, of anthropology. Linguistics is a very prominent sub-section of those studies, and there are other strongly associated fields - archaeology, psychology, cultural studies - which you would certainly be encouraged to touch upon during your studies. It is a research-intensive subject, with almost the obligation of field research as well as more conventional means, and in fact it can lead to all sorts of outlets. Perhaps even back to journalism, if you find that your interest in that field survives."

Clark looked at Lex, wide-eyed. "Why do the careers advisors at school never talk about this kind of thing?"

"Because they don't think outside the box," Lex smiled. "If you're good at English, they'll suggest law, because then you become a lawyer and you settle down with a practice and pull six figures a year if you're any good. If you're good in chemistry, they'll suggest medicine. If it's physics and math - engineering. It's always that kind of thing, very black and white, with a specific job at the end of it. If you do the kind of thing Roberto's suggesting, you still won't know what kind of job you might actually have in the end, but you'll have the chance to learn a great deal, yet keep your options open. Also," he added humorously, "I don't think they think going off to Papua New Guinea to study the natives is entirely respectable."

"There is only one thing," Roberto interjected, "and that is, I think you will have to consider where you wish to study."

"I was planning on going to Metropolis University."

"Because it is closest to your home, no doubt?"

Clark nodded.

"I do not question the general quality of education they give, but with the social sciences, you need to choose carefully. Your future path will be eased by the contacts you make during your studies, and being taught by the right people can be very important. If, for example, you do choose anthropology, I can tell you that neither Kansas State nor Metropolis are particularly known for their strengths in that area."

"I'm not Ivy League material," Clark objected anxiously, "and we couldn't afford it, anyway!"

Roberto shook his head. "No, no, I was not suggesting that. Those universities, they are for the traditional professions - law, medicine, politics, economics, theology, that sort of thing - like the very old European universities, such as Oxford, or Paris or Salamanca. That would not suit your needs. You should definitely consider studying outside America, of course."

"I don't see how we could possibly afford that, either!" Clark exclaimed, wide-eyed. When Roberto glanced briefly at Lex, Clark held up a warning hand quickly. "Please don't suggest that Lex could fund it."

"His parents would never stand for that," Lex supplied, a little wryly.

"Ah. Still, you are a good student, yes?"

"Uh, yes, mostly A's since seventh grade. I'm a bit better on the arts than on the sciences, though that's improved since last year. Lex has been helping," he smiled shyly at his lover.

"Then there are always scholarships and grants available to good students. It is even possible to acquire more than one such at a time." Roberto patted the teenager's arm lightly. "Think about it. Give me your address, I will put together some literature and send it to you at home, so you may consider the options. If you want to do this, and decide to come to Europe, especially Italy or Spain, leave the grant proposals to me. It is something I do all the time and I am very good at extracting money from all those stuffy committees," he smirked.

Clark stared at him. "You - you're serious?"

"Absolutely."

"What about the language?"

"With your ear, you could take a crash study course during the summer. You would have enough command within six weeks, if you worked at it. Although from the sounds of it, you will already have enough French, Italian and Spanish to study in any of those countries without much further preparation."

"When would I have to decide?"

"You would hope to start university in October, 2005? It would be good if we could present the proposals next summer. It is a little early by some standards, but if your academic record is already strong, that will not be a problem, and your school will be able to send a continuous assessment to the grant committees during your final year to show that you are maintaining progress, which will be a very good point for you. Also it would certainly be advisable to have the proposal under way before applying to your university of choice. There, it can be a little chicken-and-egg, but the university will like to know that you have your funding in hand, whereas the grant committees will accept that you may wish to apply to several places before settling on one. As long as they approve of the institutions, there will be no difficulty."

Clark was overwhelmed. "Study in Europe?" he breathed, awed. "That would be…. But what would my parents say?"

"There's not really such a huge difference between going to Europe, and going out of state to study," Lex said mildly. "They're already getting used to the idea that you're going to be leaving, and they do want what's best for you. If you land a full scholarship…. I wouldn't have said this a year ago, but now I think they'll let me take care of the little extras, like getting you home for regular visits," he smiled faintly.

"Do - do you think this is a good idea?" he asked hesitantly.

"Clark, I want what's best for you, too. I also want to open up your horizons. Don't consider me; right now, I can adapt to anything you choose, don't worry about it."

Clark looked utterly dazed for a moment, then began patting down his pockets. "Have you got anything to write on?"

Smiling, Lex slid a pen and one of his own business cards across the table to Clark, and he neatly printed his name and address on the blank reverse of the card. He passed the pen back to Lex, and the card to Roberto.

"Professor," he asked earnestly, "why are you doing this?"

"Do you think Lex asked me to?" Roberto countered, clearly amused. "I assure you, he did not. You have been a very delightful surprise to me. However, I have known Lex many years now. I think he has told you how we became acquainted, yes?"

Clark nodded, color just touching his cheeks, and Roberto shot him an intrigued glance. He turned to Lex.

"Tell me he was not jealous!" When Lex grinned swiftly, Roberto fanned himself theatrically with his napkin. "Ah, that is such balm to my ego, that so exquisite a youth could be even momentarily jealous of an old man like myself…!"

Lex slid a caustic glance in Clark's direction. "And you had the nerve to call me a drama queen!"

Clark clapped a hand over his mouth and snickered softly.

Roberto grinned, too, and nodded approvingly. "Good. We will forget the ancient history, and just remember that Lex and I have corresponded regularly ever since, yes?"

"Yes," Clark smiled.

The Italian sobered abruptly. "I have always enjoyed that correspondence. However, in recent years, increasingly I saw things creeping into it that I did not like, things that did not sound like the Lex I knew and loved, but much more like his father; things that were cold and hard, and even ugly and a little venomous, and that concerned me greatly. Then, a little over a year ago, the tone changed again. The ugly things were fading. I knew - as all the world did - that matters had come to a head between Lex and his father, but more than that decision to break free, there was something else there, a quality of hope that I had feared crushed. I began to see again the boy I knew back in London, with a passion for study for its own sake, for the joy of knowledge, not just self-obsessed and power-seeking."

"I'm not that anymore, either, Roberto," Lex said dryly. "Don't break out the rose-tinted glasses just yet."

"Perhaps not. Of course you are older, you have real, practical concerns you did not have at 16. Still, it is clear that you have chosen to reject your father's dominion, and to allow your talent to flourish unfettered by his - perverted philosophies."

"Did you think they were perverted when you first knew him?" Lex asked, interested.

"Yes. Interesting, but definitely strange. You were, oh, about 8 when I first met him, and he was obsessed with you."

"Obsessed with his heir, you mean. I never got the feeling I existed as an individual, I was just a representative figure."

Roberto nodded regretfully. "Yes, that is true. Did he ever recite that story about Alexander the Great on his deathbed?"

"To the strongest?"

"Yes. He was quite wrong, of course, but I could never get him to hear it."

"Like the generals around Alexander's deathbed," Lex smiled crookedly. "To this day, no one knows whether he actually said 'To the strongest', or whether he named one of his generals. ' _Krateros_ ' or ' _kriteros_ ', just one vowel between the two - not that it would have made a great deal of difference, I think. Ptolemy had the right idea. Take what was already his, and consolidate."

"Yes - that is what you are doing. The other, that is your father all over. He will only hear what suits him. You were not that way, but you were becoming so. Then it all changed. Would I be wrong in thinking Clark is the reason for that change?"

"No."

Roberto reached out and cupped his hand to Lex's cheek briefly in an affectionate gesture, then looked back at Clark. "So there you have it. You have restored my good friend to me, and you are very dear to him, so I will help you in whatever way I can, and be very pleased to do so. Is that a good enough answer for you, Clark?"

"Yes, thank you," Clark smiled.

"What of you, Lex, what are your plans? This lawsuit, is it going to go on for years and years?"

"I hope not!" Lex said earnestly. "I expect everything - including the shouting, by which I mean the appeals - to be over by the start of next year. Meanwhile, I'll finally get started on my Ph.D."

"Ah, very good!" Roberto enthused. "Which university?"

"M.I.T. in Boston. I was going to be doing something biochemical, but then I got sidetracked into nano-magnetism, and they had the best facilities…"

"Ah, stop, stop, this is all Chinese to me!" Roberto pleaded.

Lex shook his head mournfully. "I never could get you to see that chemistry was fun."

"You're going to be in Boston?" Clark asked, suddenly a little crestfallen.

"Not this year. I can work theoretically for some months, and only take short visits. Next year, though, and probably the year after - it's usually three years for a doctorate, and that's what I'm counting on - they've asked me to do some tutoring in nanotechnology, so I'll be up there full-time, but, you know, that means I'll be free during vacation time the same as you, pretty well, so…"

His explanations were interrupted by a shout of laughter from Roberto.

"You are going to be tutoring? You, Lex?"

Lex slanted an evil glance at his old friend. "You find that funny?"

"No, no, I am just sorry for those poor children!"

"What children? They'll be my age."

"Lex, caro, they will be in their twenties and wet behind the ears. You will be twenty-four going on sixty, as that picturesque phrase goes. You will make mincemeat of them!"

"This isn't very flattering of you, Roberto," Lex scowled, but Clark was chuckling, so he just held up his hands in surrender, and diverted the flow of conversation.

A little later, when Clark excused himself, Roberto looked at his former student carefully.

"You truly love him." He had switched to Italian, and it wasn't a question.

Lex took a long time to answer, then nodded. "Yes. You said to me that I was beginning to resemble my father." Roberto nodded. "At one time I thought I no longer had a heart. I wasn't convinced I'd ever had a soul. I was - freezing, from the inside out. Then, one day, my life was saved by a Caravaggio angel, and I dreamt of flying, of freedom. Of rebirth."

"You have always protected your deepest feelings fiercely, Alessandro. I am glad to see that they have not been buried forever."

Clark returned with an odd expression on his face.

"What's up?" Lex queried, entertained, switching back to English.

"I think I just got hit on," he said, clearly not quite sure whether he should be amused or outraged.

Lex choked, and dropped his face into one hand to cover his laughter, but Roberto just looked puzzled.

"You are surprised?" he asked

"Well - yes!" Clark replied, with an air of saying 'duh'.

"I cannot imagine why. You are a very beautiful young man. The other diners are not blind."

"Well… but… oh, Lex, shut up!" a scarlet-faced Clark scowled at Lex, whose shoulders were shaking.

Roberto was grinning, and nudged Lex's shoulder. "You two spent a month in the south of France, practically on the Riviera, and nobody made a pass at him? The French must be getting slow."

"We weren't exactly advertising it, so no guys made a pass," Lex replied, his voice a little unsteady, "but the girls were quick enough off the mark."  
There was a snort from Clark. "Like you didn't get any attention," he grumbled.

Roberto had settled the bill, waving away Lex's offer to do so, and they left the restaurant, Clark suddenly flamingly conscious of the appraising looks that followed all three of them. They were all going for taxis, and the nearest square was a couple of blocks away, but the night was agreeably warm and walking in the streets of Rome after dark was a pleasure.

"So, just what did happen in the restroom?" Lex asked, curious, and still laughing silently. "Someone come up behind you and grab your ass?"

"I only went in to wash my hands," Clark objected. He could feel his face burning up; he was sure he could have illuminated the street all by himself.

"That must have been a real disappointment to the guys who followed you in," Lex chuckled.

"What?"

"You didn't notice? At least three."

"Well, sure, I saw them come in, but…. You mean, they followed me in deliberately?"

Lex's whole face was alight with laughter. "Yep."

"For God's sake, Lex, you've got to be kidding! They wanted… to see…?"

"To get a look at your assets, farmboy."

Clark was speechless, while even Roberto was trying hard not to laugh by now.

"Oh, geez - I swear I'm never going in a public restroom again!"

Lex howled. Clark had to grin, it was unusual for Lex to laugh out loud like this, but he was still also a little peeved. He advanced on his lover a little threateningly.

"Lex, so help me, if you don't stop laughing at me…"

Lex took a couple of steps out of reach, turning to face Clark, walking backwards. "You'll do what?" he teased.

They came out into the piazza, ornamented by one of Rome's numerous fountains.

"I'll - " His eyes narrowed as he thought of a suitable punishment. "I'll toss you in the fountain."

"I don't think so!" Lex laughed, and then ran for it as Clark made a grab for him.

Roberto watched, smiling, as the two chased each other around the fountain for a couple of minutes, until Clark caught up with Lex, bodily grabbed him and lifted him, apparently effortlessly, to set him on the edge of the fountain, as if about to push him in. Then Lex cheated shamelessly, wrapped his arms around Clark's neck and evidently whispered something sweet and intimate into his ear, until Clark laughed and lifted him down again to kiss him passionately. It took a couple of raucous whistles from some passers-by to break the two apart, and they were both flushed, with wide, shining eyes, when they separated. Clark kept his arm around Lex, though.

"I see the reputation for strength of American country boys is well deserved," Roberto said, amused. "You handle Lex like a feather."

"Like a bale of hay, you mean," Lex corrected, laughing. "Which he's been tossing since he was that high." He held out a hand about two feet off the ground.

Clark just smiled, content to let Lex cover for him. He had enjoyed the evening, but now he just wanted to get back to their lodgings and make love to Lex. He spotted an idling cab across the square, and loped off to flag it down.

"It is nice to see that you have rediscovered how to play, Lex," Roberto commented, as they followed Clark at a more sedate pace. "I am very glad you took the time to look me up."

Lex took leave of his old friend affectionately, and a few minutes later he and Clark were in the taxi on their way back to the flat.

"You were right," Clark said, "I like your friend. Even if he is a shocking flirt," he added with a grin.

"He wasn't flirting with you, he was just being complimentary, Continental-style," Lex said, amused. "If he'd been flirting, you'd have known it. Like you knew you were being hit on in the restroom."

"Le-ex!" Clark groaned.

Lex sniggered. "I see there are still some facets of your 'sentimental education' missing."

"Yeah, you're slipping up on the job," Clark rallied with aplomb.

Lex got the predatory look Clark adored. "You're just begging for extra homework here."

"Refresher courses," Clark agreed innocently.

They never normally made out in public - the incident at the fountain was a rare one - so they were silent for the remainder of the trip, eyes only speaking fluently and passionately in silence of pleasures to come.

* * *

"I wish you weren't driving all that distance alone," Clark said worriedly.

They were seated in the executive lounge in Rome Airport, the bald head and the dark one inclined over a laptop, studying road maps.

"It's not that bad. I'll be stopping in Zürich, anyway; overnight at least, probably for a full day."

"Why do you have to go to Zürich? It's not exactly a direct route."

"Just somebody there I think I need to see," Lex said lightly. "Anyway, I should be there before six. Then Zürich to Lyon is barely half a day, no big deal. I'll be fine."

"Okay." He still sounded a little doubtful. "What's the appeal of Lyon?"

"What, you mean apart from a superb business-oriented infrastructure, an excellent location with outstanding transportation links to the rest of the world, and some of the best food in France?"

"I've been told it rains a lot," Clark countered, smiling a little.

Lex chuckled. "Well, maybe. Still, it's also the home of the Compagnie Pharmaceutique du Rhône, which is the most important of the Rutherford Industries companies. When they become mine, that will be my European headquarters."

"Oh, okay. So you're going to look around the place."

Lex nodded, logging out of the computer and switching it off.

"When are you going to be back, then?"

Lex looked at him searchingly. Clark looked so forlorn, he wanted to wrap his arms around the teenager and just hold him close, but even though the lounge was apparently empty, it was a little too public.

"Not long. I imagine I'll be back in about three weeks; mid-September, thereabouts. I have to be, actually. Walter says the defense is just about ready for closing arguments, and I need to be there for the judgment."

"You are going to win, aren't you?"

"I think there's very little doubt of that."

"Signor Kent?"

Clark looked up as the stewardess approached, and stood. "That's me."

She smiled. "Your flight to New York is ready for embarkation, Signor Kent," she said, in charmingly accented English. "If you would care to follow me?"

"I'll be right with you."

Lex stood as well; he would be leaving the airport now that Clark was to board his flight. Clark shouldered his small holdall, and turned to face him.

"Lex…"

They hugged briefly, unable to bear the idea of separating without one last touch, which was going to have to do them for some time.

"You'll call?" Clark asked.

"Don't I always?"

"I know. I'll still miss you. Take care of yourself."

"You, too, farmboy."

 

 **End Chapter Thirteen**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The legend of Alexander's last words evoked here comes from Mary Renault's "The Persian Boy". I have never heard her theory repeated elsewhere, and have no notion as to its authenticity, but it always made sense to me, so I'm sticking to it!


	14. The Oak and the Cypress (14/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 14 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 4292  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

_September, 2003_

Clark's phone rang.

"Lex!" he answered eagerly.

_"Hey, farmboy."_ Lex's voice sounded a little weary, but affectionate, and Clark was extremely relieved to hear it. For the last two weeks their only communication had been via e-mail and text messages.

"Where are you?"

_"Home, finally. Well, I think so, at any rate, though frankly, I'm too tired to know for sure,"_ he added with wry humor.

"I suppose you've been partying too much, celebrating your win," Clark said severely, although he didn't really believe it.

_"God, I wish,"_ Lex chuckled faintly. _"No, I've been spending my time working on defensive strategy. A vindictive father is a fearsome thing. The moment the appeal is quashed, he's going to make the transfer of companies as difficult as it could possibly be, I can tell you that. I don't really want to talk about him, though. It's Friday - do you think you could come over for the evening?"_

Before he could answer, Martha touched his shoulder.

"Is Lex at home?" she asked. Clark nodded, and she went on. "Ask him over to dinner."

"Uh…"

_"I heard,"_ Lex said. _"I was kind of hoping to get you to myself for a while. On the other hand,"_ he added thoughtfully, _"one of your mother's meals sounds pretty tempting. What's she cooking?"_

Clark grinned. "Mom, Lex wants to know what you're making for dinner."

Smiling, she held her hand out for the phone. Clark passed it over with a faintly wary look. He had no qualms about extending his hearing so he could pick up Lex's voice still.

"How does gazpacho, Chicken Maryland - with all the trimmings - and peach cobbler sound to you?" she said.

_"Almost too good to resist."_ His smile was audible. _"The trouble is, I don't think I'm terribly good company just now."_

"So I gather. I was in town an hour ago, and Lana said you'd dropped by briefly. I won't repeat how she described you to me, you wouldn't like it."

_"Something along the lines of the living dead, I imagine. She had no difficulty in telling me to my face."_ He sounded amused.

"In that case, wouldn't you rather not risk making your own dinner, and come and enjoy a perfectly good one here? I'm sure Clark won't let you fall asleep in the soup."

"Mom… !" Clark gave a gasp of scandalized laughter.

_"Why do I get the impression you're not taking 'no' for an answer?"_ Lex enquired.

"Because you're a very bright young man. Now, get yourself down here by 5:30, or I'll send both my boys to fetch you," she threatened amiably.

_"Yes, ma'am,"_ he said meekly.

"Good, that's settled. Here's Clark again."

_"You're not to let me fall asleep in the soup, you got that?"_ Lex was laughing softly.

"I promise," Clark smiled. "Look, you do know you don't have to let her bully you like that, right?"

_"I guess I like it that she feels she can. Besides, it's been years since I've had Chicken Maryland."_ There was a wistful note in his voice.

"How come?"

_"Well, considering that it's bread-crumbed and fried, it's the kind of food I usually avoid. You may never have to worry about cholesterol, but the rest of us aren't so lucky."_

"Oh, hey, if you don't like it…"

_"No, no, I do - probably a little too much."_

"Once in a blue moon isn't going to hurt you," Clark coaxed.

_"No, I guess not."_ The smile was back in his voice. _"See you later, Clark."_

* * *

Five-thirty certainly brought Lex, but in a screech of tires and a spray of gravel as his car practically skidded to a stop outside the farmhouse. If it had been a convertible, he would have vaulted out of it, he was in such a hurry. Clark, startled, had the door open instantly, and Lex's momentum had him colliding into the tall teenager. Clark steadied him quickly.

"Lex, what…?"

"Turn the TV news on!" Lex said urgently, and added, "Now, Clark!" when Clark didn't move quickly enough to suit him.

"Lex, is everything okay?" Martha asked, astonished.

"I just caught this on the radio, driving over," was the only explanation she got, and then Clark had the TV on.

The image on-screen was of the main entrance of the LuthorCorp building in Metropolis. Lex's father was being escorted from the premises flanked by uniformed police officers, with a group of other men - 'suits', Clark would have called them - surrounding them closely. Other policemen were keeping back reporters and curious bystanders, and even his escorts had given Lionel sufficient room that he could talk quietly and rapidly to one of the 'suits'. He looked, to put it politely, like thunder.

_"… shortly before close of business today,"_ the anchor was saying, _"on a charge of perjury, apparently related to the recently settled fraudulent concealment case brought by Mr. Luthor's son, Alexander 'Lex' Luthor against his father, LuthorCorp and Metropolis-based lawyer Mitchell Artjunian in the matter of the authenticity of the late Mrs. Lillian Luthor's will. At this time, the D.A.'s office has no statement to make, but Mr. Luthor's lawyer, Mr. Frank Glazer, made the following statement immediately after charges were filed."_

It was still the front door of the LuthorCorp building, but obviously a little later, with one man framed in the glass entrance and surrounded by journalists.

_"My client refutes these allegations of perjury absolutely, as a nonsensical and ridiculous attack on his character by the District Attorney, Mr. Holt. This is an unfounded and grossly insulting accusation, and one that, we are convinced, cannot be sustained by the District Attorney. We will be moving for dismissal as soon as possible."_

The picture now returned to the anchorwoman in the studio.

_"Even with only a few minutes to go before the close of trading, the news of Lionel Luthor's arrest has rocked the market quite considerably. It was immediately reflected in a drop in LuthorCorp share prices of almost 18%, which in turn has severely impacted on the whole agro-alimentary section of the stock market, bringing the Dow Jones average sharply down by 3.4% for today. Our own analyst, Tom Dichter, is standing by in New York for commentary. "_ The screen split to show another face. _"Tom - what, exactly, is going on here?"  
"Well, Colleen, it's not strictly true to say that today's arrest is the sole cause of the drop in LuthorCorp share prices. They've been looking shaky for a week or so now, ever since a jury decided against LuthorCorp and the two other defending parties in the Luthor vs. Luthor fraud case mentioned earlier. However, while this is not shaping up to be a major corporate scandal such as those that rocked the business community during the last couple of years, the Metropolis D.A.'s decision to proceed with a perjury case against LuthorCorp CEO Lionel Luthor has still come at a bad time for a market which is only slowly regaining investors' confidence."_

_"How did this whole affair begin?"_

_"Put simply, it's a dynastic clash. It has been rumored for quite some time that there was likely to be a potential major confrontation between Lionel Luthor and his son, Alexander 'Lex' Luthor. Those who are acquainted with both parties say that father and son are two very different people, with almost radically opposing interests, and that it was very unlikely that Lex Luthor was just going to fit placidly into the mould his father was so obviously setting up for him. What no one anticipated, however, was that the spark to this whole barrel of gunpowder was going to be an accusation of fraudulent concealment._

_"Just to recap the case that was settled only ten days ago, Lex Luthor filed a case against his father, LuthorCorp and a Metropolis lawyer named Mitchell Artjunian, alleging that one or all of those parties altered the will of Mrs. Lillian Luthor in such a way as to ensure that LuthorCorp retained control of an international group of chemical research and production companies known as Rutherford Industries. These companies had joined with LuthorCorp on the marriage of Lillian Rutherford to Lionel Luthor in 1978, but the shares remained in Mrs. Luthor's control. On her death, the original will - which has since been produced in court and verified - left those shares to her son, and not to her husband. After several months of attempting to negotiate a peaceful settlement to this debate, Lex Luthor finally resorted to the courts, and duly won his case last week, although it's clear from statements made to the press immediately after that decision that LuthorCorp is preparing to appeal."_

_"If the appeal fails, what impact is this likely to have on LuthorCorp?"_

_"The Rutherford holdings constitute the major part of LuthorCorp's chemical research facilities. Prior to the merger, LuthorCorp was almost purely agro-alimentary in the applied sense, and was reliant on other companies for their R &D, and while it did very well in that sector, the real advances are the ones made in the R&D field. The income from patents and royalties for newly developed products and concepts is estimated at approximately one-eighth of the total value of LuthorCorp assets at the present time. The loss to LuthorCorp would be substantial, and certainly affect their pre-tax profits for at least a couple of years, but there's no reason to suppose that the empire would collapse entirely, unless there are other strains within the corporation that are not currently visible._

_"There is also a less immediately quantifiable loss to the corporation in the person of Lex Luthor himself. It's worth remembering that he is already recognized in this country and, increasingly, abroad, as a highly regarded biochemical engineer, not to mention associated interests in other scientific fields, despite his young age and his reputation as one of Metropolis' more in-view socialites. Three-quarters of the patents developed by LuthorCorp since about 1995 are reputed to have been the direct result of his work. It's therefore quite logical that he should take a first-hand interest in Rutherford Industries, and it's commonly supposed that the whole reason for this turbulent 'divorce' between the Luthors is because he was being impeded from pursuing his real interests."_

_"Thank you for that analysis, Tom. Just to remind latecomers to this evening's news, Metropolis billionaire businessman Lionel Luthor, CEO of LuthorCorp, was arrested this afternoon on charges of perjury brought by the D.A.'s office in Metropolis. Mr. Luthor has been released on his own recognizance, but LuthorCorp share prices have been hard hit and have impacted negatively on today's Dow Jones figures. KRAC will be keeping you updated as this story develops."_

Clark switched off the television, and there was a prolonged silence, until Lex broke it.

"I hate it when they say my name like that," he complained mildly. "Makes me sound like a 1920s gangster. Benjamin 'Bugsy' Siegel, you know?"  
The three Kents - Jonathan had joined the group just a minute or so after Lex arrived - turned to stare at him incredulously, and then Clark cracked up. Martha shot her son an exasperated glance, then frowned at Lex in concern.

"You do know sarcasm's a defense mechanism, don't you?"

"I think I wrote the book on it," he returned evenly.

"Your father's been arrested, for goodness' sake!"

"You expect me to be upset? I just sued the man. Besides, he's already out, and probably enjoying filet mignon and a 1985 burgundy at home. Well, no, it's a little early, but you get the general idea."

"Were you expecting this?" Jonathan asked him, more than a little bemused.

"I knew it was maybe in the cards, but I didn't really think Holt had enough grounds to go ahead with it. I still don't, come to that," he added, "which I'm sure you're sorry to hear."

Clark stopped sniggering and straightened up, with a slightly shocked look. "God, Lex, your place is going to be crawling with reporters!"

"You're right about that. Excuse me, I have to make a phone call." He went out to his car to collect his phone.

"I'm going to wash up," Jonathan said. "Uh, tell Lex if he wants a drink, he's welcome." With that he disappeared up the stairs.

"I don't know why you look so scandalized, Mom."

"Clark, what were you like when your father got arrested?"

"Yeah, but Lex doesn't exactly have the same relationship with his father that I have with mine, and you know that perfectly well."

"Still…"

"Mom," he said gently, "you have no idea what this whole business has been like for Lex, and it's been going on for a lot longer than the trial did. He's not nearly as unaffected as he's making out, but please don't push him on it. He came here - at your insistence, remember? - for a nice dinner and to relax."

The mention of dinner did the trick. "Oh, Lord, it's way past time to start the chicken…"

He smiled a little as she rushed off, and then turned his focus outwards, scanning the surrounding area carefully for anyone or anything that shouldn't be there. When Lex returned inside, tucking his phone in his breast pocket, Clark was satisfied that the area was clear, and without hesitation wrapped his arms around his lover in a warm hug. Lex had his usual, fleeting, skittish reaction to anything approaching a public display of affection, but relaxed promptly, trusting Clark to know when things were safe.

"Dad says if you want a drink, to help yourself," Clark relayed, and pointed at the Dutch sideboard where the bottles were kept.

Lex turned wondering eyes on his young lover, and Clark chuckled softly.

"Oh, come on, you know he's coming around. Do you want a drink?"

"Um - yeah, I could use one," he admitted wryly.

"I don't think we've got anything like what you're used to…"

Lex went to look for himself, smiling a little. "Right now, it's the alcohol more than the taste I need." He was agreeably surprised to find a still sealed bottle of Glenlivet. "Would your father mind if I opened this?"

"No. That was a present from someone - Dad tends to finish one bottle before opening another, so it can be slow getting through them," he smiled. "He won't mind, if that's the one you prefer."

"I do. It's not as sophisticated a taste as some, but it's very smooth. Relaxing. God knows, I could do with that," he added, cracking open the bottle and pouring a shot.

"Do you want water?" Clark asked earnestly.

"No - Clark, settle down, will you?"

The teenager rolled his eyes, smiling, sat down on the couch and patted the seat beside him. Lex came to his side, relaxing against the back of the couch and letting Clark pass an arm around his shoulders to draw him in gently. They sat like that, in intimate, comfortable silence for long minutes, while Lex sipped at his Scotch slowly, savoring the taste, the combined warmth of the alcohol in his blood and the strong arm around him and body at his side. He felt soft lips against his scalp.

"Hey," Clark whispered, "don't go to sleep, dinner'll be ready soon."

"I wasn't," Lex smiled. "Just enjoying the moment." He looked up, his smile widening a little, and held up the glass. "Want to taste? You haven't tried any since last year."

Clark nodded, smiling back, and took the glass to sip from it briefly, before handing it back. He rolled the amber liquid around his palate for a moment before swallowing.

"It's completely different," he said, a little wonderingly. "No seaweed taste. More like - um," he frowned a moment, then looked a little sheepish, hunting for the word.

"Earth?"

"Yeah - "

"With overtones of manure?" Lex grinned.

"I wasn't going to say it," Clark grinned back.

"Peat's the polite term for it. All Scotch has that in the background, even the Laphroaig you tasted back at Bruce's. Like I said, it's in the water."

"This one's, um, warmer."

"Mm-hm."

"Lighter, too?"

"Not in the alcohol content sense, no, but I know what you mean. It doesn't feel as heady. Laphroaig's a little oilier, it coats the tongue a bit more."

"I think I like the Laphroaig better. More distinctive."

"We'll make a connoisseur of you yet," Lex teased.

It was only after a moment that he became aware of Jonathan on the steps, watching them, and he tensed a little. Clark picked up on that immediately, and looked around. He made no comment, though, simply met his father's gaze calmly.

"Do you do that a lot, Lex?" Jonathan asked.

"Under present circumstances, I don't think I've done anything with Clark half as much as I'd like," Lex returned a little sharply.

"Shh," Clark eased him, hugging him imperceptibly closer. "I don't think he meant anything by it." To his father, he said simply, "Lex gets me to taste things, to see if I like them or not. Just taste, nothing more, nothing less, unless I decide otherwise. When it comes to whisky, I've had precisely two mouthfuls. I think I could like it, but I don't feel like trying full measures yet. That's all. He's not encouraging me to drink."

Jonathan came down the rest of the way. "First time I drank whisky," he said, in a reflective tone, "was at a frat party in my freshman year at college. I got dared into it, and I'd never touched anything stronger than beer before. I was sick as a dog the next day." He smiled wryly. "I guess Lex's way of introducing you to hard liquor is a sight better than that."

"See, now if you get dared like that at your first frat party," Lex said to Clark, a shade smugly, "and with that angelic face, you will, trust me - all you need do is ask them for a Laphroaig, with just a splash of cold water. That should shut them up."

"What if someone produces it?" Clark asked.

"Well, first, you're in with someone who at least shows some taste. Then you drink it. Slowly, enjoying it. And look pityingly on anyone who tells you to knock it back."

Clark grinned. "That's a look you've got to teach me."

"What?"

"That 'don't bother me, little man' look you get sometimes."

"I can try," he agreed dryly, "but I don't think it'd sit very well on your face. You're not a sarcastic bastard like me."

Jonathan had an odd expression on his face. "It was your father who dared me," he said to Lex.

Lex stared up at him. "What do you want me to say? My inclination - no offense intended - is to say 'sucker,' but then I'm sure you had no idea what you were getting into with Dad at the time."

Jonathan had to smile, however wryly. "You're undoubtedly right."

"That's not your principal reason for hating him, is it?" Lex asked curiously.

"No, Lex. I'd like to think I'm not that shallow," Jonathan returned dryly, and went to pour himself a shot of whisky, too.

"I didn't mean to imply…" Lex flushed a little.

"He's yanking your chain, Lex," Clark soothed him, smiling.

"Just a little bit," Jonathan confirmed, and looked a little rueful, though still amused. "It's a novel sensation, and I realize that it's only because of Clark that I can. I apologize."

His amused look was returned. "It's a novel sensation for me, too. No apology necessary - turnabout's fair play, after all."

Jonathan laughed. It was the first time Lex had ever acknowledged that he sometimes quite deliberately provoked the farmer.

Lex thought he would chance his luck a little. "So if it's not because he got you blind drunk, do you mind if I ask just what else you have against my father? His reputation, of course - but I have to say it's always seemed a little more personal than that, and to the best of my knowledge, you've never done any business with him."

The older man hesitated a little before answering. "Well - not in the sense you mean, but - Clark said you knew about the adoption? That he had copies of those papers?"

"They weren't copies. However, the past tense is certainly operative," Lex nodded. "I took care of that."

The farmer held up a hand. "I don't think I want to know the details. It's been…. I had to go and ask Lionel to arrange the adoption in the first place. He was the only person I knew with that kind of clout."

"He's held it over your head ever since?" Lex checked, enlightened. "Oh, yeah, that's definitely his style." He smirked suddenly. "Gives the term 'illegal alien' a whole new meaning."

"Geez, Lex!" Clark groaned at the awful joke.

Lex just sniggered briefly.

Martha called them to the table for dinner. She had been following the conversation from the kitchen, and had some questions of her own, as she served up the spicy, cold, vegetable soup.

"Lex, why do you think there's no real case against your father? Surely the D.A. wouldn't start something like this if there weren't reasonable grounds?"

"To answer your second question first, it's more a matter of politics than of law. You know there's a mayoral election in Metropolis this November?"

"Yes."

"Charles Holt is running for office. His main rival is the incumbent mayor, Fleming, who's very firmly in my father's pocket."

"As was his predecessor," Jonathan put in dryly, "and a couple before that as well, if I'm not mistaken."

"Very true," Lex agreed. "It's my guess that Holt wants to tarnish Dad's image, and then he'll use that to do the same to Mark Fleming."

"If there's no case, though…"

"Oh, that doesn't matter. All he really needs is the indictment, and he'll get that, all right."

"I thought you weren't supposed to get an indictment if there wasn't enough evidence for a case," Clark said, puzzled.

Lex smiled crookedly. "Clark, a grand jury would indict a ham sandwich if told to."

Jonathan choked on his soup, laughing, and Clark smiled a little.

"Okay. So if there's an indictment, then there's a trial, no?"

"No. After indictment, defense can go to the judge and argue that the case should be thrown out due to lack of evidence. Which brings us back to the first part of your question, Martha. As far as I can tell, the only way the D.A.'s really going to have enough evidence to make this stick is if Mitchell Artjunian gets up on the stand and testifies that my father paid him to alter my mother's will. At that point, obviously, Dad would be shown to have been lying throughout my own civil suit when he said he knew nothing about any forgery."

"Isn't that what's going to happen?" Martha asked.

"Mr. Artjunian disappeared in the middle of August," Lex told her. "It's believed he left the country, since he certainly hasn't been found anywhere in the U.S. yet."

"For goodness' sake!"

"Is he still even alive?" Jonathan asked suspiciously.

"I really don't see Dad resorting to such crude methods; it's not worth the gamble at the moment."

"I wish you wouldn't say things like that, Lex," Jonathan said, a little plaintively. "It just sounds so…." He floundered, searching for the right word.

"Alien?" Lex suggested, a touch mischievously.

"Hey, I resemble that remark," Clark objected promptly.

"So you do," Lex agreed blithely.

Clark eyed him askance. "I see you're in the mood for corny jokes tonight."

It lightened the moment again.

They had finished the gazpacho and Clark cleared up the soup bowls while Martha brought the chicken to the table.

"I still don't see what this has to do with the mayor's election in Metropolis," Clark said. "It's not like your dad's got the greatest reputation, anyway."

"Not abroad, no, but it's different in town."

"What, are the inhabitants of Metropolis all deaf, dumb and blind?" Jonathan grumbled.

Lex shot him a clear, sharp look, suddenly completely serious. "Mr. Kent, you barely know the city. You spent a few years there as a student, and you pass through from time to time as a tourist. You don't live there, and you don't relate to its history. You can say what you like about my father's dealings with this town of Smallville, with the state, even with the country, but you have no notion of the strength of the link between the Luthor family and Metropolis. We founded that city, and it is ours. We own it, and we cherish it. We have done much for Metropolis, and its inhabitants know that. We're tied to it, wedded, almost, for richer, for poorer. When my family has been well off, we've given back everything we could. When we were poor, it gave us the opportunity to climb up from the depths. You have no understanding of the connection between Metropolis and the Luthors, but the citizens do, and they continue to acknowledge that. My father has done a lot of damage to that bond, he's been too careless of it in recent years, but it's still there, and Holt is going to find it very hard to break."

There was an awkward silence until Clark broke it.

"So, Lex, when do you take over the city?" he asked brightly.

Lex grinned at him ferally. "What makes you think I haven't already started?"

"Uh-oh! Watch out, everyone, world domination begins here!"

"Brat."

"Lex, that's my son you're insulting," Martha objected.

"What, you didn't know he could be a brat?" Lex smiled up at her, accepting the dish of corn fritters.

"He's not the only one," she said sweetly, and he laughed.

 

**End Chapter Fourteen**


	15. The Oak and the Cypress (15/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 15 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 8345  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

An hour later, Lex was showing signs of being ready to leave, but Martha insisted on giving him some of the peach cobbler to take home, and was looking for an empty jar for the whipped cream. To kill time, Lex had idly picked up a dishtowel and was drying some of the plates Clark had finished washing. Clark nobly refrained from teasing him about becoming domesticated.

"Are you still using the same security firm, Lex?" he asked instead.

"Oh, yes, they're efficient, and they've proven loyal to me a couple of times already. I'm happy with them."

"Good, so I won't have to meet a whole new bunch of guys next time I come around. I guess they'll have cleared any press away by now, right?"

Lex glanced at his watch, and shook his head. "I'm not expecting them for about another hour. This whole business caught all of us a little unprepared, and I'm not their sole client yet."

Clark stopped what he was doing and stared at his lover. "You mean you're planning on going home now, knowing there's going to be, like, a thousand reporters camped on your doorstep? You're going to face that on your own? Are you nuts?"

"I've faced the press before."

"Not somewhere you're a couple of miles from the nearest living being, and completely on your own!"

"What do you think they're likely to do?" he asked, amused.

"I don't know. They've been cooling their heels for the last couple of hours; I don't imagine they're feeling too friendly. Stay here tonight, Lex."

He shook his head. "That will just bring them here, eventually."

"They have no idea where you are."

"Once they realized I wasn't coming home for the night, they would go to the plant, to the castle, anywhere else they think I might be found. Sooner or later, someone in Smallville would suggest they try the Kents' place. No, I'm going home."

"Then I'm going with you."

"Out of the question!" Lex replied immediately.

"Just until your security people get there, Lex, that's all I'm suggesting. Look, they're going to want to know where you've been for the last few hours, anyway. You might as well tell them the truth - you've been dining with neighbors, friends."

"And if anyone asks what you're doing at my place?"

"I can tell them the truth, too - that we're concerned at you being alone 'til your security people arrive, and figured you maybe needed a little, uh, moral support. In other words, a witness. Come on, Lex, we're talking less than an hour. It's hardly long enough to give anyone any ideas."

"It has nothing to do with getting ideas. They're born with them, Clark. All they need is a shred of supportive evidence."

"Lex, we've been friends for two years now, and everybody around here knows it. There's nothing unusual to see, and that's exactly what any reporter's going to get told if they ask. On top of that, you've just had dinner here, and that's not exactly unusual either, these days, so, you know, it'll be obvious my folks know where I am…. It's just backup, Lex, that's all."

"Perhaps. But then they're still going to be all over you and your parents, wanting background information, personal opinions, shit like that."

"We can handle a bunch of reporters, Lex."

Lex eyed him doubtfully. "Please tell me you're not thinking of anything to do with a shotgun."

"I think we can avoid the clichés. After I had them arrested for property damage, I imagine they'd leave us and any of the other local farmers in peace." The calm reply came, unexpectedly, from Jonathan.

They looked around to find the Kents - Martha standing at the larder door, Jonathan just inside the back door, having returned from his final round of check-ups - clearly listening in to their discussion.

"Property damage?" Lex was intrigued. "Will that wash? I can tell you it wouldn't in Metropolis. Not unless you were talking a Rembrandt or two!"

"You're talking droves, right? Not just one or two?"

"Right. You might get a couple of more persistent ones later on, but at first, yeah, it'd be a whole crowd."

"This is farming country, Lex. Damage really matters here; it could mean the difference between fortune and famine in a year for any of us working the land. The sheriff's office takes things like property damage and vandalism very seriously."

Lex looked amused. "I bow to your superior knowledge. Evidently a bunch of city reporters won't stand a chance." He turned back to Clark. "I'm still not happy with you coming into too close contact with the press - and I'm pretty sure they aren't, either," he added, gesturing at Clark's parents.

"It's going to happen next year, anyway," Clark said calmly. "I've been thinking it might be a little easier on both of us if I don't suddenly appear in your life like a rabbit from a hat, but actually have some kind of history with you. They can speculate all they please, there isn't one shred of proof of - of misconduct here in Kansas against either of us. Knowing you, there's precious little evidence elsewhere, either. If nothing appeared after this summer, and it didn't, then speculation isn't going to hurt either of us now, and in six months, it won't matter one bit. In the meantime, I don't see any problem with coming along with you for a little while tonight. If anyone asks, I'll say that I don't know anything about your business affairs except what I see on the news, but that I thought that - and here I'll just loom over whoever's doing the asking - as a friend, 6'3" and 190 pounds might turn out useful until your regular security gets there. You know us corn-fed Kansas farmboys - not to be taken lightly," he added smugly, "and I can act mean when I have to."

That got a laugh out of Lex. "Mean, huh? Now that's something I'd like to see."

"So would I," Martha said dryly, moving forward and placing the cream-filled jar and a foil-wrapped plate on the table.

Clark grinned at her, but immediately turned his attention back to Lex. "Come on, Lex," he said cajolingly. "We can make this work, I know we can, and you're not going to tell me you wouldn't be glad of my company."

"I'm always glad of your company," Lex said very softly. He put down the dishcloth, studied his empty hands for a moment, then looked up at Clark's parents. "I think I'm leaving it up to you. He's right in one sense. Sooner or later, I'm not going to be able to prevent a visitation of journalists upon you, and you need to be prepared for it. It might be easier now, when we all have a very solid backstory to work with, than sometime next year when the questions are going to get a lot more embarrassing."

"We've always avoided public scrutiny…" Jonathan began heavily, though without heat.

"I'm aware of that. It's been getting harder and harder, though, and not just because of me, hasn't it? You should know what journalists are like - the more you avoid publicity, the more convinced they become you have something to conceal, rightly or wrongly. Defusing matters a little at this stage wouldn't hurt. It's a matter of public record that Clark saved my life and, as he says, everyone in Smallville at least knows that he and I have been friends ever since."

Jonathan was silent for a moment, then, grudgingly, "An hour, you said?"

"Certainly no more."

"Well, if you really want to, Clark, you can go, but I want you to call me when these security people get there, and I'll come and pick you up."

Lex was surprised. "I thought he could borrow the truck to come home. I certainly didn't mean to disturb you unduly…."

"It's not that late. I can wait up, and I think it'll look better."

"It will make it clear that he's at your place with our knowledge and permission," Martha said quietly. "I think, at this stage, that would go some way to quelling any… less savory speculation."

Lex thought about it, and nodded, agreeing. He looked back at Clark. "Okay, come along, then. But not a word, not a gesture out of place, you got that? It's very important."

"Yes, Lex," Clark beamed, rinsing out the last glass, and drying his hands quickly.

"Clark, you're not going out in that T-shirt. Go put on a sweater or a shirt," Martha said quickly, as Clark seemed prepared to almost drag Lex out the door.

The teenager rolled his eyes, but disappeared upstairs. Lex thanked the Kents for their hospitality, and left to wait by the car, and a minute or so later, Clark barreled back down the stairs and out of the door with a cheery wave. The sound of a car starting up could be heard moments later.

Martha looked indulgently at her husband. "It seems to me you're making your peace with Lex," she commented.

"He's got guts," Jonathan acknowledged. "I don't know if I could ever have done anything like what he's done, even if I'd had the kind of relations with my old man he has with his. Not that mine were sterling, either. We never played this kind of cat-and-mouse type of game, though."

"It's all part of what makes him what he is."

Jonathan nodded. "I see that." He retrieved his cup from the draining board and poured himself some more coffee. "I used to think it was entirely because of Clark; the changes he's made to his life, I mean, but I'm not so sure now. What he said tonight, about Metropolis, and the tie between the Luthors and the city - those are obviously not new thoughts for him. I've never heard him sound that - that…"

"Possessive?" she supplied, a touch slyly.

He glared at her, though without any real heat. "Yeah, okay. Possessive, before."

"You haven't been listening," Martha smiled faintly. "He talks about Clark like that all the time."

"I'm not too sure I like the sound of that."

"It's a fine line, I agree, but you liked what he said about Metropolis, didn't you?"

Jonathan nodded, albeit a little reluctantly. "Yes. It sounded like he put the city first, for its own sake."

"That's how it sounds when he talks about Clark."

"I do see he's put a lot on the line for our boy." He smirked wryly. "I'll say this. I don't think he's after Clark for one thing only, anymore."

Martha gave him an amused look. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you ever see him watching you?"

"Jonathan…!"

He laughed at her shocked expression. "No, I didn't mean anything like that, and you know it. He likes it that you've sort of adopted him. He let you call him a brat tonight, and just laughed."

"I did not," she objected, but it was more for the form, and they both knew it.

"The point is, these days you treat him just like you treat Clark, or even me, in some ways, and he loves it. He watches you, you know, when you're cooking, or just… doing your thing…"

She glowered at him. "My thing?"

"You know what I mean."

"You know, you really are an unreconstructed male chauvinist," she said tartly. "What about Lex?"

"Well, I just think he's kind of enthralled with the whole…" He stopped. "I don't know how to say this without sounding even more chauvinist," he said wryly.

She let him off the hook. "You mean he's adopted me, don't you? He's sort of admitted it, a couple of times, though I hadn't realized he still watched so closely. It's the whole 'family' concept - he's said as much to Clark, even before they were dating." She polished a glass, thoughtful. "We fill a void, I know that. It's not just me, you know. He does admire you, even if he likes to provoke you sometimes. The problem is," she smiled, "you fall for it every time."

"He's a very provoking boy," Jonathan said dryly. "I think I'd rather have Clark's abilities than Lex's brain in the family any day. Much easier to handle."

"Yes - well, it sort of looks like we've got both now, doesn't it?"

"You think it was okay to let Clark go to his place tonight?"

She took a moment to respond.

"I don't think there's any harm in it. I just wonder why Lex let a lot of his security measures lapse here when he must have known there would be fall-out from his own case against his father, even if he wasn't expecting this latest turn of events. It's surely much easier to keep the press at bay in Metropolis."

Jonathan gave her an odd look. "What are you getting at?"

She smiled a little ruefully. "I think we have to get used to the idea that Lex is always planning on two or three levels at the same time. I mean, we always knew he was very clever. I think we're only just starting to get an idea of the full extent of that." She had an odd look suddenly. "We've got to stick with this, Jonathan. It's really not just Clark, it's all three of us. We've filled a gap in his life, and maybe he's making up a little bit for lost opportunities, but we're all important to him. Clark most of all, of course, and he wouldn't hesitate to choose Clark over us, I think. Yet he's fond of me, and he respects you. We're learning to accept him, because he's what Clark wants. It would be a very, very bad thing to shut him out again. He's more vulnerable because he's let himself care, and that means he'd react much worse if things were to go wrong."

He was silent for a moment. "Clark will never abandon him, not if he stays on track as he's doing just now."

"No, he won't. I think that means we have to trust Clark's judgment, and do the same. Stand by Lex, accept that he's playing his own game, but it's a much straighter game than it might have been. I think we both know now that he'll do nothing to hurt Clark or us. Or even anyone we know here. He wants to protect Smallville, that seems clear enough, and I think he wants the town's goodwill."

"Politics?"

"Mmm… eventually, maybe. Although I think his sights are set a little closer to his own home right now. Remember what he said when Clark asked him when he was taking over Metropolis?"

"How did he know he hadn't already started?"

"Uh-huh." An odd little smile touched her lips. "I think the mayoral elections might turn out to be quite interesting."

* * *

Around the DeFries farmstead was a host of cars, and people with lights, cameras, microphones - even a helicopter in the background. Lex locked his car doors, and simply inched his way slowly up the drive, knowing they'd give way to the car.

"Okay, Clark. Just play it cool. Whatever you do, whatever they say or do, do not hit anyone, not even lightly. You can do the quarterback thing, if necessary, a little elbowing and shouldering, but just don't respond to anything else. And don't say anything right away. Follow my lead. You'll know if it's time for you to say anything."

"Okay, Lex," Clark said solemnly.

Lex looked at him affectionately, knowing they were masked from the outside by the tinted windows. "You'll do fine. I trust you."

Clark beamed. "I should get out and open your door, right?" he asked.

"If you're wanting to look like my bodyguard, however temporary, yes."

Clark's smile turned impish. "Then I should really have been driving the car, too, you know."

Lex ignored that. Clark grinned swiftly and began to open his door, but then stopped, indecisive. "Uh, what about the pie and cream?"

Lex shot him an exasperated look. "Clark Kent, if you think I'm getting out of this car - or letting you get out of it - burdened with leftovers from a meal, you can think again! They can sit there for a while, until all that rabble's gone."

Clark laughed, and then straightened his face conscientiously. He got out, and found it surprisingly easy to be impassive in the face of all these strangers with their lights and microphones and shouted questions. He walked around the car, his simple bulk clearing a narrow path, and opened Lex's door, moving in front to shield Lex from the reporters as much as possible.

"Mr. Luthor!"

The cry rose all around, but Lex ignored it for a few minutes, while he and Clark made their way to Lex's porch. There, he turned around, with Clark a couple of steps lower, a large, looming, protective mass, just as had been planned.

"Mr. Luthor!"

"Mr. Luthor - your father was arrested today…"

"Mr. Luthor - what's the next step…"

He held up a hand. "I have no comment to make on the current events. Anything to do with my father's arrest, you will have to take up with the District Attorney's office. As you have probably heard, LuthorCorp is planning to lodge an appeal against the judgment in my own suit. When that happens, I will be holding a press conference of which you will all be duly notified."

"Mr. Luthor, where were you tonight?"

He paused a moment. "Tonight, I went to have dinner with some neighbors where I could just relax and forget the stresses of the last couple of weeks. I'm grateful to be able to call such people my friends, and for their tolerance. Now, it's been a long day, and it's not getting any shorter. I would like you all to leave the premises. I have called in a security firm which will arrive shortly, so please spare yourselves the embarrassment of getting thrown out."

Lex went into the house, and Clark promptly shifted up into his place, blocking the door from the journalists.

"Mr. Luthor…!"

The calls went on in vain for a couple of minutes, while Clark just stood there, impassive, effectively blocking the steps. Eventually, balked of their primary prey, the journalists turned to him. At first, Clark could barely distinguish all the questions rained on him in the din, but finally one thin man stood out from the crowd.

"Sir, you're obviously personally connected with Lex Luthor…"

Clark didn't like the way the man said that at all, and scowled, drawing himself up to his full height.

"You're asking the wrong guy about Lex's business. All I know is what I hear on the news. But he's an old friend, and I thought he maybe needed a little - backup - until the professional security people get here. We've got a little tradition here in Smallville with folk who bother us too much. Ask anyone about our scarecrows."

He had never known he could sound that cold before, especially when he was lying so brazenly. He ignored all further questions, and his height and bulk did the rest. The journalists backed off, though some gave him very speculative looks. He stayed outside Lex's door for a good fifteen minutes before going in, to find Lex sitting at the foot of the stairs, unholy amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Ask anyone about our scarecrows?" he quoted back at Clark. "You're going to look pretty stupid if anyone does exactly that and finds out you were one of them."

Clark flushed, then grinned. "Hey, it sounded good at the time."

Lex laughed. "I'll give you that." He stood gracefully. "Come on. Let's get some coffee, and see if there's anything semi-decent on TV, while we're waiting for Corbett and his people to get here."

"Just coffee?"

"I could make it hot chocolate," Lex suggested, though he was smiling to himself as he preceded Clark into the kitchen. He heard the suggestion of a pout in the teenager's voice perfectly clearly.

"That's not quite what I had in mind."

A couple of commands to the house security system had drawn all the shades and curtains over every window, and set off the interference generators that would disrupt all other audio and visual surveillance devices, so they could talk openly. Lex looked back over his shoulder at him.

"I'm well aware of that," he smirked. "However, considering how soon you'll be leaving again, I have no intention of sending you out the front door looking completely ravished."

Clark suddenly smiled shyly. "Do I really look completely ravished?"

Lex rolled his eyes. "Remind me to stand you in front of a mirror some time after you've just been fucked. You'll see what I mean."

Laughing, Clark settled for coffee, and a few minutes later they were installed on the couch in front of the TV set and bickering amiably over what to watch. They agreed to skip the films, since they were all either long started, or there would be no time to watch one starting up now. Lex nixed the sporting coverage, while Clark heckled the sci-fi shows until Lex agreed to change channels. Only once did Lex surprise him by a rapid switch of channel.

"Hey, wasn't that Stargate?"

"Yeah, so?"

"I thought you liked it."

"I did, but then they brought in a new actor, and I find it hard to watch now," Lex admitted, a little sheepishly.

Clark chuckled. "I thought the only reason you watch sci-fi shows was for the special effects and the cool gadgets - even when they're, like, forty years old."

Lex elbowed him reprovingly. "Smartass."

"Well, it's true," Clark defended, grinning. "I've never heard you complain about lousy acting before."

"It's not that," Lex sighed, with a put-upon air. "The guy reminds me a little too much of someone I'd rather forget, that's all."

Clark eyed him curiously, but there was that little set to Lex's mouth that told the younger man that was all he would get from his friend on the subject for the moment, so he let it pass. He was pretty sure Lex would tell him the rest of the story eventually.

They were ten minutes into an episode of Taken when Clark sat up.

"There's a car pulling into the drive," he reported. "Your security people?"

Lex glanced at his watch, frowning slightly. "It's a little sooner than I expected."

"They can't be early?"

"By road? It would surprise me." He muted the television set, got up and walked through to the hallway to peer through the narrow window by the front door.

"Jesus Christ!" he swore explosively.

"Lex?" Clark was by his side instantly.

"It's my dad."

"What? But he shouldn't be here at all…"

"Tell me about it," Lex said tersely. He let the net curtain drop, and leaned against the door, eyes closed, stunned.

Clark watched through the net as Lionel got out the car, followed by an enormous man with a heavy, brutish face. The reporters crowded around the LuthorCorp CEO, but the other man, clearly a bodyguard, easily fended them off, and as Lionel strode up the steps of the house, the bodyguard kept everyone else off the porch.

Even though he could see them coming, the fierce raps at the door startled Clark. Lex, on the other hand, opened his eyes, and Clark could see he had gone into 'business' mode, eyes bright, face hard, expression focused. He looked at Clark and tipped his head towards the rear of the house, and Clark retreated, judging that Lex knew best how to handle whatever was coming next. Still, if that bruiser thought he was coming inside, he might have another think coming, Clark determined.

Lex flung the door open, expression belligerent. "What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" he demanded instantly, not giving Lionel a chance to start.

He could see the change of tactics reflected immediately in the whisky-brown eyes. "I thought we might have a few things to talk over, son," Lionel said urbanely, though he was fairly radiating anger.

"Come in, but leave the pitbull outside." As Lionel stalked past him, he added, "You can stay 'til my security people get here, which shouldn't be too long now."

Lionel raised an eyebrow. "You'd throw your own father out?"

"In a heartbeat," Lex responded promptly.

Lex had half-hoped that Clark would make himself scarce, but the teenager had resumed his place on the couch, sitting half turned around, facing the archway. In the dim illumination, his features weren't clear. Even when he stood up, all Lionel could see at first was a tall, husky, young man.

"Tell your toy to get lost, Lex," he ordered, "this is none of his business."

Lex was torn between doing exactly that, in order to get Clark out of what was probably going to be an unpleasant conversation, and telling his father that Clark was more welcome in this house than he was. He hesitated a moment too long, and Lionel's attention suddenly focused on Clark. He walked over to the couch and looked at him more closely.

"You're Jonathan Kent's boy, aren't you?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes, sir," Clark replied politely.

Lionel turned his head towards his son, an unpleasant glint in his eyes. "So the rumors were true, then?"

Lex flicked the main lights on. "What rumors, Dad?" he asked calmly.

"Those placing you in France and Italy with a good-looking teenager this summer. Very careless of you, Lex."

"Really? The thing about rumors is they're just that - rumors," he challenged silkily.

"Corroboration would appear to be standing right here."

"Shall I tell you what the reporters outside would see, and all they could prove? A friend with whose family I've just had dinner, who's been in my house less than an hour, who simply came along to keep me company while I wait for my security people to arrive. A friend who's been watching TV with me, and having some coffee, and who'll be going back home shortly."

Lionel hadn't taken in the mugs and glass on the coffee table. "You expect me to believe that?"

"You may believe whatever you want to. The thing is, you can't prove any differently. I realize that the concept of friendship is completely foreign to you, but that's your problem. Clark is a friend, he's here with his parents' full knowledge and consent and there's absolutely nothing untoward going on."

Lionel glared at his son, but Lex just looked back, icy calm. After a moment, the older man looked back at Clark, and jerked his head towards the door.

"Get out," he ordered brusquely.

Clark hesitated, but Lex nodded, almost imperceptibly. When Clark passed him, he turned his back on his father to talk to Clark very quietly.

"Take the truck and go home, Clark, it's best. You know where the keys are."

Clark glanced at Lionel, who was watching them, eagle-eyed, and frowned a little. "I don't like leaving you with him," he said, equally softly.

"There are a hundred witnesses outside. He won't try anything. But you should go."

Clark was unhappy, but schooled his expression and made no further comment. In the hall, instead of turning right to the front door, he turned left to go back to the kitchen, where Lex kept his various sets of keys in a handsome little Javanese prisoner cabinet affixed to the wall. The four cars (including the truck) themselves were kept in what had been the barn. However, Clark didn't take the truck keys. Instead, he picked up the telephone extension and called his home.

"Hi, Dad," he said quietly, when his father answered the phone.

_"Hi, son. I wasn't expecting to hear from you just yet."_

"Would you come on over, anyway?"

_"Is something wrong? You're sounding very quiet."_

"Lex's dad is here. Lex wanted me to come home on my own, with the truck, but I don't like leaving him alone with Mr. Luthor."

_"What about the security firm?"_

"They're due in about ten, fifteen minutes."

There was a moment's pause, then Jonathan said, _"I'll be right over."_

"Thanks, Dad."

Very quietly, Clark got himself another mug of coffee, and sat down at the kitchen table to listen to what was going on in the lounge.

* * *

"Well, maybe you have learned some discretion, after all," Lionel said sardonically, as the teenager disappeared from the room.

"I've only ever been indiscreet when I wanted to be noticed," Lex shrugged, moving to the table to pick up his drink and finish it. "What do you want, Dad?"

"Don't you think this foolish game of yours has gone on for long enough, Lex? You're really pushing it, getting me arrested. Of all the gall…."

"I didn't get you arrested, the D.A. did," Lex corrected evenly. "Not that you saw the inside of any kind of cell for more than five minutes, from what I gathered."

"On evidence you supplied."

"I warned you what would happen if I filed my suit. The D.A.'s been looking for a way to get to you for ages; he wasn't going to miss this opportunity. Even if nothing comes of it in criminal court, it could be enough to alter the outcome of the next mayoral elections in Metropolis, and that's all he's really interested in."

"It's bad enough you won that ridiculous fraud suit, but you're actually prepared to take the stand against me in a criminal case?"

"The point is, I did win it, which means there was nothing ridiculous about it."

"It should never have been filed in the first place!"

"That's also your fault - I tried negotiating first, remember? In any case, you should be proud of me," Lex said sardonically. "I did what I needed to do to get what I wanted."

"Not against family!" Lionel growled.

"It's funny how I'm only family when it suits you," Lex mocked. "Get over yourself, Dad, and face facts. You were careless, and I have some serious leverage against you this time, which I'm fully prepared to use because I have nothing to lose by it."

"Nothing to lose? You have your entire inheritance to lose."

"It's my inheritance I'm fighting to gain here, but you just won't see it. I don't want LuthorCorp. I don't need it."

"You wouldn't be where you are now without LuthorCorp, and you'll be nothing in the future without it."

"I'll admit that it's given me advantages, but it has become a dead weight now, something I've been trying to tell you for a couple of years. You never listen, do you? I have plans that are not compatible with LuthorCorp's policies, which I don't see you changing any time soon, and I don't need an outmoded dinosaur with a badly tarnished reputation encumbering me on the way. What I wanted is Rutherford Industries, and I've got it. And you can forget about the appeal; you're going to lose that, too."

Fury boiled up in Lionel, and he suddenly lunged across the low table to grab Lex. Lex dropped his empty snifter and sprang back, left hand going out towards the wall above the fireplace. Too late, Lionel was reminded that this was Lex's territory, not his, and Lex's movements had been far from unconsidered. The next thing he knew, he was facing his son down the length of twenty-odd inches of sharpened steel, for Lex had snatched down the foil that hung over the mantelpiece and was holding it aimed quite steadily at the base of his father's throat. The weapon was unbuttoned.  
Lex's gaze was completely dispassionate, as if he had anticipated Lionel's every move.

"Bad idea, Dad."

Brought up short, Lionel glared at him. "You wouldn't dare."

"It's not like I'm planning any permanent damage to you, merely enough to keep you in your place. I suggest you just sit down and cool off. You're never laying a hand on me again, I promise you," he warned softly.

For a long moment, brown eyes met blue, gazes locked in a silent battle of wills, then Lionel flung himself onto the couch petulantly.

"I made a mistake, sending you here," he growled.

"Yes, you did. You just never quite grasped the nature of that mistake," Lex agreed, almost amused. He knelt quickly to pick up the spilled brandy glass and put it back on the table, but his eyes never left his father's face, and the foil was still ready.

"You got sentimental, damn it!"

"I got hungry, Dad. Hungry for a lot of things I realized you could never give me."

"There's nothing I couldn't give you."

Lex shook his head. "You still don't get it. You probably never will."

Lionel bristled at Lex's condescending tone, but the younger man went on before he could say anything.

"Forget all that for the moment. You have a different problem right now. You're counting on getting the judge to drop this perjury case for lack of evidence. As things stand, I'm sure you've made a correct assessment. However, once again, you're not taking me into consideration. I could well make the difference to all your chances of having to stand trial or not."

"How?" Lionel demanded swiftly.

"What's the one thing that would make life very difficult for you?"

"Nothing! It's a completely unfounded allegation."

Lex sighed. "Please, this is me you're talking to. Let's drop the act, shall we? I know you had my mother's will forged, I know how you did it and why. I didn't need to prove all that, or I would have tried harder. The D.A. does, however, and there's only one person who can really make that case for him. That person vanished not long ago, and I'm sure you think he's hidden safely away somewhere with the millions he made from his deal with you."

Lionel's eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at, Lex?"

"Merely that Mitchell Artjunian is a guest of mine at present, and we've had a long and very interesting conversation. The short version is, if you go to appeal without certain other matters being settled between us, I will bring Artjunian back to testify at the appeal against you, in exchange for dropping any case against him. At that point, the D.A. will be able to use his testimony against you in the perjury case, and it will be very damaging to you."

Lionel looked up at him assessingly, seeing the malice glinting in the blue-gray eyes. "What do you want? For me to drop the appeal? That can be done…"

"No, I don't care about that. Go ahead if you want; one way or another, you'll lose it. I'll even let you get away with making the transfer of companies as awkward as you're planning to - oh, yes," Lex smiled crookedly, "I'm not expecting any gifts from you there, either."

The older man's mouth tightened impatiently. "You know how damaging the perjury case could be if it really came to trial, much less succeeded."

Lex nodded. "It would open a very large can of worms, and the FBI's being particularly nosey at the moment, aren't they?"

"What do you want?"

"Agenothree."

"You already have control."

"I want all the remaining LuthorCorp shares."

Lionel looked at him shrewdly. "You seem very keen on that company."

"I find it aggravating to have you snooping around. Like I said before, I have my own plans, and you're not invited to the party."

They both heard the cars pulling up outside. Lex relaxed just slightly.

"I think my security's arrived." He studied his father silently for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't expect an answer right away, Dad. You've got a couple of weeks to consider the alternatives. If I don't hear from you, though, I'll assume you're willing to chance the trial."

Lex left the room to open the front door. Lionel's bodyguard was still blocking the steps to the two men who wanted to reach the door, so Lex flipped the foil and tapped the huge man on the shoulder with the hilt.

"Move, pitbull," he said coolly when the man looked around at him. "Your job's done here, and these men are invited, which is more than you were."

The bodyguard glared at him, but moved out the way.

Lex had been expecting Corbett, but, to his surprise, the second man wasn't one of Corbett's agents, but Jonathan Kent.

"I've come to pick up Clark, as arranged," the farmer said mildly.

Lex was acutely conscious of the reporters hovering just a few yards away. If conversation inside the house was private because of the measures he had had installed, out here it was a different matter, and every word had to be calculated.

"Yes, of course. Come on in. Oh, first," he gestured towards the other man, "I should introduce you. Drew Corbett, my chief of security. Corbett, this is Jonathan Kent. He's one of my neighbors, and Clark's father."

Corbett looked the farmer over briefly and held out his hand, which Jonathan shook, a trifle warily.

"My previous orders still stand. Mr. Kent and his family are always welcome here," Lex clarified.

"Yes, Mr. Luthor," Corbett acknowledged. When his eyes flicked briefly to a point over Lex's shoulder, Lex knew his father had appeared behind him.

"That's quite a way to greet visitors, Lex," Jonathan remarked, with a pointed glance at the blade Lex still held. "Problems?"

Lex laughed. "No, I was just showing Dad one of my latest acquisitions. We share a taste for fencing, after all. Right, Dad?"

"Indeed, Lex. Good evening, Jonathan. I'm intrigued to find that you and… your family," Lionel said silkily, "have the run of my son's property, when I'm barely tolerated."

"I think Lex knows who his friends are," Jonathan replied bluntly.

Lex judged it prudent to cut this exchange short. "Corbett, my father's just leaving. Would you see him and this… gentleman," he glanced at the bodyguard, with a faint curl of his lip, "off the premises? They won't be back," he added firmly. "After that, please clear that mob," he indicated the press with a slight gesture, "at least to the perimeter of my grounds. I don't suppose we can do more than that."

"I'll see to it some of my men keep an eye on them, sir," Corbett said calmly.

"You do that. Then come in and we can discuss the rest of the arrangements."

Corbett nodded, and looked at Lionel. "Mr. Luthor, I'll see you to your car," he said politely.

Lionel gave him a cold stare, which he then transferred to his son. Lex met it head on.

"I expect to be hearing from you. Good night, Dad."

Lionel strode off without another word, followed by the bodyguard and Corbett. Lex watched them go for a couple of seconds, then turned back towards his house, with a gesture to Jonathan to precede him. Inside, he shut the door, and then leaned against it, exhaling heavily.

"That bad?" Jonathan asked.

"It had its moments," Lex said wryly. He straightened up and returned to the lounge to re-hang the foil. "About Clark, I thought I'd sent him home…"

"I'm here." The teenager emerged from the kitchen. "I called Dad to come up."

Lex took in his troubled expression. "You heard everything," he surmised.

Clark nodded. "Lex, why are you still trying to bargain with him? I thought you were ready for this. He's done something wrong, he should face the penalty."

"Clark, it's not going to happen, I'm sure of it. The prosecution case simply won't be strong enough. At best, the charge would be reduced and he'd probably get off with a hefty fine and a suspended sentence."

"If that's the case, why bargain at all? He must know all that as well as you do."

"I told you earlier, this isn't about the course of justice, it's about politics and appearances. Aside from the political aspects, LuthorCorp's perpetually got the FBI sniffing around it looking for evidence of illegal activities. Every time something like this comes up, there's another investigation launched, which costs money and is a major inconvenience. It would be inconvenient if LuthorCorp was white as snow, but since it isn't, it's even worse. Anything Dad can do to avoid that kind of interference is going to save time and money. Well, I'm not sure about the money, since he has to shell out serious bucks in bribes, but you get the idea. So I made the offer, and we'll just see where it gets me. He may figure he doesn't need to bother, or he may decide he'd prefer to do without the aggravation of having this go any further. I don't know, I'm just waiting to see what side the coin comes down on."

"It's not right, Lex," Clark said stubbornly. "He's going to get away with something he shouldn't."

"No, I'm trying to take advantage of a particular situation. The D.A. is playing a political card here, and even with what I could provide, I'm 90% certain Dad will still not go to jail. He'll only suffer a certain amount of inconvenience. Under the circumstances, I'm trying to gain an advantage. Don't think Dad isn't going to be punished for this; he is, just not through the system. Believe me, losing to me is going to hurt him in just about every way except physically."

There was a knock at the door, and they heard it open.

"Mr. Luthor?" Corbett, obviously aware that his employer was in private conversation, was staying near the front door.

Lex moved so he could be seen from the hallway, and made a little sign to him. "I'll be with you in a minute."

He walked up to Clark again and just looked at the younger boy for a moment, a complex mix of emotions crossing his face. Eventually he sighed, and made an abortive gesture as if to put his hand on Clark's arm.

"I can't talk about this anymore," he said quietly. "I have arrangements I need to discuss with Corbett and - and I've made my decision. You'd best go home."

With that he crossed the room and leaned heavily against the mantelpiece, staring bleakly into the hearth. Clark watched him, hesitant, but then turned and headed for the front door.

The broad front drive was now blessedly free of reporters. The security men had pushed them back beyond the fence to the property, and although they were still hanging around, they were no longer snapping on the heels of whoever came in or out of the house. Jonathan waited until they were out of sight of the house before broaching the subject.

"Don't tell me that's the first disagreement you've ever had with Lex?" he commented lightly.

As he had hoped, Clark gave a faint chuckle. "God, no. We argue all the time, but - not like that." He rested his head against the window. "I guess it's the first time we've run into a moral problem. Lex has always said - warned me, even - that he's got his own view of things. A lot of what he's doing now, the way he's doing things, is because of me. Because he cares for me and wants me in his life, and he feels that things have to be a certain way because of that. I - I've never asked anything like this of him, you know, he just… did it. Does it. Yet this - I hate the idea of his dad just getting off scot-free with this. I want everyone to know what he's done, that he's capable of cheating and lying to his son. And his wife - it doesn't matter that she's dead, obviously he didn't care what she wanted in the first place…." He stopped and let out a puff of breath. "I don't know. What do you think?"

Jonathan was silent for a moment, considering. "On principle, I'm with you, son. I'd like to see Lionel's scrawny ass slung in jail, I really would, but I don't believe it's going to happen - not over this, at any rate. I think that Lex's assessment of the whole situation is probably dead on. But, you know, this kind of thing's always a problem when dealing with the really big criminals, and Lionel is exactly that."

"People like that aren't outside the law any more than anyone else."

"Technically, no, but… well, sometimes you've got to pick your battles. The only way they managed to put Al Capone behind bars was for tax evasion. Compared to what he was really up to - smuggling, gun-running, extortion, murder - tax evasion seems like pretty small potatoes…"

"Not to the IRS," Clark smiled faintly.

Jonathan chuckled. "At least you're keeping your sense of humor. What I'm trying to say is that there are times you have to take your breaks where you find them. Lionel's got a lot of influence, never mind being able to bribe a lot of folk, and if the D.A. is really only in this for political gain, that isn't the way to win borderline cases. I can see why Lex has chosen to try to make the best out of the situation for himself."

Clark looked at him with a wry, sad smile. "I guess I'm pretty naïve."

"No, of course you aren't. Just, you know, life can be complicated."

"You think I don't know that?" he asked, a little heatedly.

"Clark, your particular brand of complications is definitely unique. Well, it was until you decided to get involved with another man," he sighed, "which is something you share with I-don't-know-what percentage of the population, but at least it is shared, and you have a frame of reference for it. Unlike being able to hoist tractors single-handedly and break the sound barrier when you're out jogging."

Clark smiled again, rather crookedly.

Back at the Kents' farm, they took the time to fill Martha in on the latest developments, but Clark soon went up to his room and fished out the cell phone Lex had given him.

His call was answered on the fourth ring.

"Lex?" he said tentatively.

_"Farmboy."_

Clark closed his eyes as a shiver of pure pleasure went up his spine. It was still there, that special timber Lex had when he used that affectionate taunt.

"Dickwad, more like," he said wryly. "Lex, I'm sorry…"

_"For what?"_ Lex cut him off. _"Expressing an honest opinion? Don't be. I'm sorry I can't live up to your standards all the time. It's good to hear from you…"_

There was just a hint of a raw edge to Lex's voice, and Clark suddenly realized that Lex had feared some sort of line had been crossed, that he had done something Clark couldn't accept.

"I didn't want to end today like that. It's bad enough we have to be apart so much physically. Can you talk now?"

_"Yes - but not if we're going to argue again."_

"I don't want to argue with you. I just - I don't understand. You've really got evidence this time. Why won't you use it?"

_"Because it doesn't benefit anybody, Clark. This is a poker game; nobody's really got a winning hand, it's all in the bluff. Even me - Artjunian's testimony would be very damaging, but it's not completely watertight."_

"Isn't there any room for justice?" he asked sadly. "You talk of playing games - what about what's right? He cheated, Lex, right across the board. You, his wife, the shareholders - or didn't you tell me the trust fund money had to have come from the company?"

_"Clark, he's done much worse than that before and since, and some of it with my assistance,"_ Lex said quietly. _"Not to mention some of the things I've done entirely on my own. If you want to see justice for this now, do you want to see it for everything? Because if that's the case, I have no future, either on my own, or with you. I thought you'd forgiven me."_

"I have! Lex, that's not the same thing…"

_"Why not?"_

"Because you've changed. You've decided to make changes, and even if you can't fix the past, you can make sure it doesn't happen again. You don't want to do things that way - to be that way - anymore. He's not going to change now, even if he believed it was possible, which I'm sure he doesn't."

Lex chuckled faintly. _"Intriguing prospect. I've wondered before if the Dickensian treatment would work on Dad."_

"The what?"

_"You know. A Christmas Carol. The Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future."_

There was an answering chuckle from Clark. "Oh, I get it - and your dad as Scrooge?"

_"Right."_

"I don't know - maybe the updated ones that visited Bill Murray, rather than the originals."

_"Oh, yeah - the fairy with the toaster?"_

They both laughed softly, but then Clark sighed a little.

"I don't really see that kind of… therapy working on him."

_"Me, neither,"_ Lex agreed, his voice serious. _"Nor do I see prison making much of a difference to him, either. Not short term, at any rate. I've tried to warn you before, Clark. This will not be the last time you have to face something like this, not if you're going to be hanging out with me. If it makes you happier - and if there's the time - I'll try to discuss things like this with you before they happen."_

"It's not like I'm qualified to give an opinion," Clark said shyly, though he was pleased at the offer.

_"Well, that's probably going to change. Besides, I value your plain common sense. I know I can get way too complicated sometimes. I let myself get tied up in knots…"_

"Kinky!" Clark couldn't help comment.

Lex was silent for a moment, then sighed gustily. _"Sex maniac."_

Clark giggled.

_"So,"_ Lex said eventually, _"are we okay?"_

"We're okay, Lex," Clark said gently. "I love you."

_"Ditto, farmboy, ditto."_

 

**End Chapter Fifteen**


	16. The Oak and the Cypress (16/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 16 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 8391  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. Also, a 16-year old having m/m sex, which might be construed as chan. Considering how many 16 year-olds in real life have sex on a regular basis, I don't personally have a problem with this particular example. However, I leave it up to the potential reader's individual sensibilities. I am leaving these entries public for the time being, but will lock them if too many complaints begin to appear, whether about any of the above-named issues, or just that it's slash, in general.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Two weeks later, everything was turning out precisely as Lex had predicted. Faced with the continued absence of the elusive Mitchell Artjunian, and the general weakness of the rest of the case, the D.A. had been forced to drop the charges against Lionel Luthor. LuthorCorp had lodged an appeal against the decision in Lex's favor of the fraudulent conspiracy suit, but Lex seemed quite unconcerned by this. On the other hand, he had just bought from the company, at market value, all its remaining shares in Agenothree. All in all, Lex was in a very good mood the next time he accepted an invitation to dinner at the Kents', updating them on current events with the air of a man feeling the satisfaction of a job well done.

Jonathan regarded him a little skeptically. "This surely isn't the end of it. Between Lionel and you, I mean."

Lex chuckled. "God, no. He's going to dump the biggest tangle of red tape imaginable in my lap when it finally comes to transferring the companies - and I expect him to try to cancel all their current orders right before having to hand them over."

"You seem pretty cheerful at the prospect of being tied up in knots for years to come."

Clark choked on his spaghetti. He ducked his head to avoid the curious glances directed at him by his parents, but couldn't help grinning at Lex. Lex shook his head minutely at the teenager, then gave the senior Kents a sly smile.

"Private joke," he explained obliquely, and went on with the conversation. "The thing is, I've already spoken to several of the Rutherford companies' management teams. They're not unhappy at the change of ownership, as long as they don't lose any current business, and I think I managed to reassure them that my own plans weren't going to hurt any." His smile altered, turning a shade reflective, even wistful. "I hadn't expected it, but in Lyon, one of the senior directors said I reminded him of my grandfather - my mother's father, that is. I never knew him. It's - I like thinking that I've inherited something from her side, after all," he said, just a little shyly.

Before Lex could get embarrassed at having admitted something so personal, Clark set the ball rolling again.

"Okay, so if you're going to get all these research places, and you're confident you can cut through the red tape, why did you want complete control of Agenothree so badly?"

"It's not a question of control. I already had that. I just wanted Dad out of the place, once and for all. We've also fired the couple of directors still on the board who were just Dad's puppets. Now I know that whatever work gets done there, he's going to know nothing about it."

"I still don't get it - you've now got nine research and production companies to play with. What's so special about Agenothree?"

"My partners there. I told you before, Marchetti and I go back quite some way, and we have a lot of similar ideas. Xeong's on board, too. We work exceptionally well together. That's how we came up with the nanomagnetic compound so quickly. Rutherford will take up that work, but Agenothree is going to turn to something else altogether now." He grinned at the intrigued expressions of his audience. "At the moment, Bruce Wayne and I are in the process of buying Daegu from General Motors."

Jonathan blinked. "You're going into the car manufacturing business? What does that have to do with chemical research?"

Lex smiled faintly. "Do you really want to know? I'll tell you - Clark says we're not being eavesdropped on, and I trust you, but anything I say now absolutely has to remain totally confidential, or the consequences could be devastating."

He gave Jonathan a challenging look, and the farmer understood. Lex was trying to earn his trust by risking something important to him. He nodded tightly. "I'd rather know what you were up to, than not."

"Okay. Vince Marchetti and I re-launched an old, old project alongside the new ones, something Vince and I started playing around with about seven years ago. It was kind of a game then, something he was using to teach me, but it's not a game any longer. If it matures - and it will," he paused, as if taking in the enormity of it all, "we're going to revolutionize the world. We're also going to wreck the economies of a dozen nations, and maybe get ourselves put right at the top of some very serious hit lists," he added wryly.

"Speak English, Lex," Jonathan grumbled.

He laughed faintly. "I expect to have a fully tested and functional alternative to gasoline, cheap, efficient and with a zero-pollution factor, ready within five to eight years. As well as the first appropriately-fitted domestic vehicles ready to roll at the same time."

The stunned silence was gratifying to his sense of theatricality.

"I thought electricity was going to be the alternative," Clark said, after a moment.

"Not seriously. Two problems. First of all, you still need fossil fuels, mainly, to create electricity, so you're kind of still in a bind there, and where it's nuclear-produced, you get toxic waste. I'm proposing, eventually, to dispense with all that. Crude oil will only be needed in the production of plastics thereafter. Secondly, electric vehicles are no good for long distances. The absolute maximum radius is about two hundred and fifty miles right now. Liquid hydrogen fuel cells, which are now being produced, are a much better alternative, and that's where Vince and I started out from, but we're proposing something else again. Something which will derive from seawater, which will be a lot less dangerous to handle, and very cheap to process.

"I know it's feasible now, the equations are just about perfect. Maybe another year of simulations, then we can start proper testing. In the meantime, WayneTech will be working on the engine that will replace the combustion engine. In five years, Daegu will have refitted all the production lines, and we'll be able to immediately produce a range of family vehicles in most formats, at much the same type of price range as, say, standard Fords. Which will, very quickly, prove to be cheaper for the consumer, for several reasons. The mpg rating will be higher, we're hoping that the new engine will experience less wear and tear, and where there's a green tax, it'll be lower for the new cars, since there will be no CO2 emissions. In the interim, we'll be looking to buy up one of the independent distribution chains, get them refitted for the new fuel, and probably look into striking lease deals for the supply with the others."

"Do you have any idea just how many interest groups - not to mention entire countries - would be violently opposed to any such developments?" Martha was horrified.

"That's precisely why I wanted my father completely excluded from my plans - he's one of those interest groups you mention. Yes, I'm well aware - as are Vince and Bruce - that we could be in very serious danger in a few years' time, if any affected parties get desperate enough. It's worth it, to me. I know we'll be doing a lot of damage to some countries like the Yemen or Venezuela, which rely heavily on their oil exports; even here, in the U.S., to some extent. They could always convert, though, and think of the difference it'll make everywhere to have a cheap, non-polluting fuel source. I'm not into heavy industry, but WayneTech is, and I know they'll be prepared to help set up processing plants at a reasonable cost anywhere that asks. Basically, anywhere with a coast-line is good for it."

"My God!" Martha rubbed her brow, overwhelmed. "I said once to you that you didn't do things by halves…"

"And I told you I was taught to think big," he returned, with a little smile. "I remember."

* * *

March, 2004

He was fiddling with his bowtie when long-fingered hands brushed his own away and deftly knotted the black cloth.

"Have I told you before you clean up very nicely, farmboy?" Lex asked, laughter dancing in his tone and in his eyes - though his face was perfectly straight - as he fastened Clark's tie.

"You may have mentioned it once or twice," Clark grinned.

Lex settled the wingtips over the black fabric, and took a step back to admire his young lover. "You ready for this?" he asked Clark quietly.

"I've been ready for two years, Lex," Clark smiled back.

"Not like this," came the wry response. "This is going to be a feeding frenzy. Two years ago, I was just notorious. Now I'm famous, and we're coming out as domestic partners. You're going to get a lot of mostly unwanted attention."

"If you can put up with a klutz for a boyfriend…" Clark grinned.

Lex laughed. "I don't know how you do it. I know perfectly well you're anything but a klutz, but you still manage to come across as this big, bumbling, adorable teddy bear in public."

Clark was mildly outraged. "Teddy bear!"

"Well, you make me want to cuddle you stupid," Lex shrugged, amused, "and I've seen the same reaction in plenty of others, too. God knows, I was never a cuddler 'til I got hooked up with you. It was all I could do to stay in bed with them after we'd done."

Clark leaned in to kiss him lightly, not wanting to get either of them too excited when they were so close to going out. "You just hadn't met me yet."  
"No, I hadn't," he conceded, laughing. "Cocky brat. Try not to spill any champagne tonight."

"Yes, Lex," he said meekly, which just set Lex off again.

They were serious as they entered the great ballroom, however. Lex was at his most regal, body straight and proud, head held high on the elegant column of his throat, the small vertical dimples at the corners of his mouth very visible in his characteristic non-smile, the blue-gray eyes sharp and alert. Clark shadowed him, as discreetly as his large frame permitted of him, his head a little ducked, looking at the glittering assembly with shy eyes.  
This wasn't quite what they had planned when Lex had announced his intention to flaunt his relationship with Clark to the world as soon as he turned eighteen, and was therefore legally entitled to date as he pleased, according to the new Kansas state laws. What they had had in mind then was just dinner in a fancy restaurant, but other events had caught up with Lex, notably the next mayoral election of Metropolis.

His quiet campaigning regarding the sodomy laws had not gone unnoticed, and with the high profile of his case against his father, certain parties had judged that Lex Luthor had real potential as a political ally. It had taken a good deal of urging, but after much discussion, Lex had been persuaded to back a new Independent candidate for mayor - in direct opposition to the candidate his father endorsed and had, to all intents and purposes, bought.

Lex was really not as sure as he would have liked to be of the advisability of such a move at this time, but he found he actually liked Alan Towers and approved of his agenda - which, needless to say, also suited his own ends. Towers had been an outsider in the mayoral race, but Lex had turned out to have more influence in his home city than even he had quite realized, and his quiet, but persistent endorsement of Towers' candidacy had carried a great deal of weight. It had been obvious that Lionel had expected 'his' candidate, the incumbent mayor, Mark Fleming, to walk away with the election and had consequently not expended the time and energy to supporting Fleming's campaign more than perfunctorily, while Holt concentrated most of his efforts on trying to oust Fleming. Neither ever considered that there might be a threat from an external candidate, but when Towers, with Lex backing him, had appeared on the scene, it seemed that Metropolis was ready for new blood, and a new generation of its ruling family. Clark might have been joking when he asked when Lex was going to take over the city, but Lex - as Martha had predicted - was taking it seriously.

So the black-tie occasion for which the two young men were preparing was the new mayor's victory celebration party.

* * * FLASHBACK * * *

Lex had thought about refusing the invitation, knowing that he could not reasonably go without a date, and not even contemplating the possibility of taking some woman along as window-dressing, but Towers was not taking no for an answer.

"Come on, Lex, you're every bit as much a part of this as all the campaign staff and everyone else who endorsed me!" the new mayor had protested, early in January.

Lex sighed. He liked Towers, genuinely, but sometimes he thought that he could be a little dense. "You're not getting it, Alan. I'm not showing up with some trophy model on my arm! I have a partner."

"Then bring her."

"I can't."

"Why ever not?"

"Well - two reasons. Or maybe one and a half. First of all, it's a guy."

Towers blinked, then shrugged. "Okay. I shouldn't be surprised, I know perfectly well you were behind the campaign to get the sodomy laws repealed. It stands to reason you maybe had some selfish reasons for doing it."

Lex smirked. "I always have selfish reasons, you had better get that into your head if we're going to be doing business in the years to come."  
He grinned. "Okay, you always have selfish reasons. Right. Your date would be a guy. Fine. I'm pretty sure I can weather that. I voted in favor, after all. My stand on gay rights is quite clear. Next problem?"

"Your ball's too early."

Towers blinked again. "Huh? It's the second weekend in February."

Lex's mouth twisted. "Off the record?"

"Totally," Towers assured him promptly, curious.

"It's about ten days too early. He's eighteen on the 28th."

Towers gaped, then laughed, then bit his lip. "Shit, Lex…"

"Cool your jets, Towers," Lex said dryly, reading his mind. "Yes, he's my boyfriend, but, well, let's just say we've done nothing wrong in this state. He's in high school in Smallville."

"Where you've been living on and off for over two years now," Towers filled in after a moment. "Uh, okay, I guess I don't need to know anything more than that, right?" he checked.

Lex gave him a wry smile. "That's one of the reasons I backed you, Alan. You know when to stop asking questions."

"I'm not altogether sure if I should take that as a compliment or not," Towers returned, equally dryly. "Well, getting thrown in jail doesn't strike me as your style, either, Lex. He must be pretty special."

"Enough that, at this stage, I won't 'pretend-date' anyone else for public consumption."

Towers looked at him with a touch of wonder, which Lex endured, his mouth twisted in a cynical half-smile. Then the new mayor pushed a button on his phone.

"Margery?"

_"Yes, Mr. Towers?"_

"If I wanted to push back the date of the Inaugural Ball, what kind of problems would we be facing?"

There was a moment's silence. _"Uh, how far, sir?"_

"Oh, say three weeks? Beginning of March?"

_"Hmm - that's not too bad, actually. We haven't contacted all that many people yet."_

"Okay, would you get on to it, please? Let's say, any time between the 1st and the 10th? Let me know what you come up with a.s.a.p."

_"Yes, Mr. Towers."_

"Thank you, Margery." He looked back at Lex. "Now will you come to the Inaugural Ball?"

Lex gave a little laugh. "I'd be honored."

"Good. Now that we've sorted that out, I need your advice on a related matter."

Lex gave him a wary look. "Yes?"

"Do I invite your father?"

Lex laughed shortly. "It's your party."

"Come on, Lex. Realistically."

"Realistically - yes. He still owns more than half of this city. He's not someone you want to make an enemy of gratuitously; the chances are you're going to have to work with him at some time or other. If you're worried about some kind of major scene between us, don't be. We both know how to behave in public," he said dryly. "There might be some words exchanged, but I'm sure we can keep it reasonably discreet."

* * * END FLASHBACK * * *

So here they were, at the Inaugural Ball, and to be seated at the top table, alongside the new mayor, the governor of the state, and half a dozen other noteworthies and their dates. And Lionel Luthor. Clark had not said a word to Lex about that, but Lex knew his young lover well enough to know that he was very uneasy about meeting Lionel like this. In the elevator up to the rooftop ballroom, Lex lectured him gently.

"Clark, listen to me. The best way to handle my father, for you, is just to avoid him altogether. You can't match him verbally, and you can't risk even a hint of some kind of angry physical response to anything he says to you. He can be pretty damn offensive, believe me. So just stay away from him. Eventually, he'll realize it's beneath his dignity to be chasing you around the floor."

"He's going to be livid."

"Yes, he is. He's going to be as cutting and as hurtful as he knows how - which is a lot - given half a chance. I'm going to try to keep him from you, anyway, but just look at it this way. He's lost. He's lost all down the line. He's lost control of a large part of his business. He's lost control of his son and his son's destiny. He's lost control of a city he thought of as his, lock, stock and barrel. He has lost the future. He has lost, big time. Take that into yourself and hang onto it, and just don't respond if you do run into him. I don't think he'll risk attacking you too much." Lex smiled suddenly and caressed Clark's cheek. "You're too sweet and shy."

"Le-ex!" Clark rolled his eyes.

"People are going to adore you, and Dad will look like a complete bastard for having a go at such a nice boy. As for me, I can take care of myself."

Lex headed straight for Towers, ignoring everyone else on the way, and knowing that Clark would follow his lead. Towers, conversing with one of the state senators, saw the distinctive bald head approaching, and broke off to go to meet Lex.

"Lex!" He shook hands heartily with the younger man. "Good to see you."

"Thank you, Alan. Allow me to introduce you. My partner, Clark Kent. Clark, the new mayor, Alan Towers."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kent."

Clark blushed a little, shaking hands. "Please, it's Clark, Mr. Mayor."

"All right. I've been hearing a lot about you lately. Lex tells me you were studying in Rome last summer. You know, my father was stationed there for a while at the end of World War II, and fell in love with the city, and when we were kids, he took my little sister and I there a couple of times on vacation. Most beautiful city I ever saw, but I haven't been back in a long time, so tell me what it's like now."

Lex had primed Alan a little, and Towers had hit just the right tone for himself. Clark relaxed immediately; it was a topic he knew was safe, and which he enjoyed, and his own enthusiasm was infectious. People naturally gathered around them, drawn by the animated discussion, and Clark weathered the introductions without difficulty, eased into it by some who were also familiar with Rome, and who were happy to exchange views and reminiscences, and others who were interested in his vivid impressions of Italy. Clark radiated charm and good humor; he was an artless and gifted storyteller when he forgot to be shy, and Lex stood back a little, satisfied, letting Clark hold the stage.

Some minutes later, he was aware of Towers at his shoulder, and looked across with a raised eyebrow.

"He's absolutely delightful, Lex," the mayor said quietly, with a little smile. "I can see why you didn't want any substitutes."

"You led nicely," Lex acknowledged with a tiny smile. "Thanks. He can get very self-conscious, but you bypassed that neatly." His smile acidified a little. "It might not be so easy when my father gets here."

"Trouble?"

"Maybe. Try not to get in the middle. I've already warned Clark, but Dad's certain to try to take pot-shots at him, too."

"I could change some of the seating arrangements. I need you nearby, there's some people coming I want you to meet, but I could put him out of earshot, in a manner of speaking."

"No, I'd rather have Clark close. So would he. Who've you got on his other side?"

Towers thought for a moment, looking at the group around the tall boy. "It was supposed to be Judge Mandeville's wife, who's okay, but not too up on things, and maybe a little straight-laced. I could shift my daughter from the other side of the table. She looks kinda taken with him," he added, with a little smirk of his own.

Lex shot him a dry look, then considered the bubbly, sixteen year-old girl who was bombarding Clark with eager questions about Italy, and especially Italian students, to which the boy was responding with good humor.

"That might work. I seem to recall she knows what's what politically."

"My girl's a smart cookie," Towers said proudly. "I'll have a little word with her before we sit down."

Lex signified his approval with a slight nod, and returned to his circulating, momentarily content that Clark was all right.

Towers had a word with his secretary, who went to make the changes at the top table, and then managed to snag his daughter in a brief lull.

"Sherry."

"Dad?"

"A word, if you don't mind?"

She rolled her eyes, but followed him dutifully.

"I've changed your seating place. I'm putting you next to the Kent boy."

She went wide-eyed. "Dad! Cool!"

"Don't get too excited," he warned dryly. "You're there for a purpose. First of all, in case you hadn't already got it, Clark's gay, and he's Lex's property, so you can just shelve any ideas you might have in that direction."

The eyes rolled again. "Oh, Dad, I got it, honestly, but he's still very cute. Anyway, he's interesting, too; he'll be more fun over dinner than whoever it was I was sitting beside originally."

"Well, good. Because this is his first time out in public at anything like this. He seems like a nice boy, but you know Lex's father's going to be here? Between losing the lawsuit, his candidate - "

"His lap-dog!" she said scornfully.

" - losing the race, and Lex coming out publicly, it's safe to say Lionel's going to be in a pretty foul mood. Lex is concerned that he's going to try to take it out mostly on Clark. So I'm asking you to, well, run interference a little. Lex will be there as well, of course, but all the extra help he can get…."

Sherry nodded, appearing suddenly wiser than her sixteen years, a true politician's daughter. "Sure thing, Dad. Okay, I'll do what I can."

He kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Good girl. I knew I could count on you."

There was a slight commotion by the door, and he looked up in time to see Lionel Luthor swagger in, his bright gaze sharp and aggressive. Quickly, Towers gave the signal to an aide to usher everyone in to dinner - that would keep Lionel's hostilities down for a little while.

As Lex took his place at the top table, Clark beside him, he noticed his father, placed on the far side of the mayor, six seats down. Lionel looked - predatory, was the only word for it, really, and Lex knew better than to expect anything good of that look. Lex was determined to ignore him for as long as possible, which, with a little help from various parties, consciously or otherwise, turned out to be for the duration of most of the meal. As coffee was served, though, tables began to break up, and Lex was acutely conscious of his father's sharp gaze on him.

"Clark?" he said quietly.

Clark turned to him with a glowing smile. They had not hidden how close they were during the meal; without anything as obvious as hand-holding, much less more indiscreet displays, their quiet conferences, the murmured, confidential asides that brought sudden smiles to one or the other's face, the quick exchanges of soft glances, had not gone unnoticed by many people, and most especially not by Lionel Luthor. Lex was aware of that.

"Clark, go mingle."

Clark blinked. "What?"

Lex looked a little beyond him to the blond girl. "Ask Sherry nicely, I'm sure she'll introduce you to the more interesting people here. But go mingle. My dad's about to commence hostilities," he added wryly.

Clark's jaw set. "I'm staying."

Lex skewered him with his pale gaze. "You'll just be a liability to me."

He would have given anything to unsay the words when he saw Clark's reaction. It never reached the outside, but he saw it deep within the blue eyes, and it struck him as hard as he knew he had struck Clark. He closed his eyes for a moment, and in that moment heard Clark get to his feet. Even without his eyes open, he reached unerringly to catch Clark's wrist. Frozen, the teenager hesitated, and then leaned in to hear him.

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded," Lex said, his voice very low. "I do want you out the way, though. You don't know how to deal with him, and I do. And if I just hurt you - you've no idea what he could do."

Clark hesitated a moment, then his hand turned beneath Lex's so that their fingers brushed together, locking fleetingly, and then he was gone, Sherry on his arm.

Lex did not have long to wait; the long, lanky form soon dropped into Clark's abandoned chair.

"Dad," he greeted Lionel calmly.

"Son. I should have expected you'd choose to make a spectacle of yourself in one way or another."

"What, supporting the 'wrong' mayoral candidate isn't enough?"

"You won. What's more - you won legally." He sounded a little amused, though reluctantly. "I have to respect that you managed to mobilize enough people even to overcome the lure of money. Maybe I should start paying a little more attention to demographics again. No, I was referring to your boy-toy. Can't fault your taste, mind you. I thought you'd outgrown such gestures, though."

"They were gestures when I made you bail me out. The liking for males was never just a gesture. Though I know you never wanted to envisage that possibility."

"It's preposterous."

It was Lex's turn to be amused. "That I might prefer my own gender? I can't imagine why. It's hardly unusual."

"It is for a Luthor."

Lex laughed shortly. "Oh, please, not that old song again. Half the time, you've told me Luthors do what they please. That's exactly what I'm doing."

"You'd reject your heritage?" Lionel seemed almost more astonished than outraged.

"What heritage?" Lex said scornfully. "Let me tell you something. The name will be remembered because of me, not because of you. You're just playing, Dad. Building things up only to knock them down. A three-year-old in a sandpit with building bricks. LuthorCorp will not survive you, and never would have. You don't have the vision to create, and it's only creation that ensures the future."

"That's good coming from my son, who appears to have renounced any breeding intentions in favor of a juvenile rent-boy."

"Insulting Clark isn't going to get you anywhere," Lex said calmly. "You know perfectly well who he is."

Lionel snorted. "I think I'd almost prefer if he was a hustler. I can only imagine what kind of a child that sanctimonious prig Jonathan Kent might have raised!"

He was startled when Lex gave a faint snicker of laughter, and looked almost outraged when Lex nodded a little.

"I know what you mean."

"You agree with me?"

"Up to a point. He can be a sanctimonious prig. Clark, on the other hand, is a complete boy scout." It was said with a depth of affection that brought a frown to Lionel's brow. "I've grown used to it. Neither of them is perfect, but neither am I. Besides, there's always Martha, who's a thoroughly sensible woman."

Lionel didn't know what was more aggravating. Arguing with Lex, or being agreed with by him. "I don't know what's got into you, son."

Lex just gave him a mocking look.

"You've thrown away your future."

"I've made it. I know where I'm going, very precisely."

"You could have had all the LuthorCorp empire to work with."

"You never did understand that I actually like using the brain I was born with. I'm going places you can't begin to imagine, and all you were doing was holding me back. LuthorCorp would have been a dead weight on me, I've told you that before." His gaze turned malevolent. "You're lucky I didn't just drag our lawyer friend back into the country, anyway."

"It wouldn't have benefited you any," Lionel said loftily.

"No, but I'd have derived a good deal of satisfaction from it," the younger man shot back promptly, then added with a smirk, "Actually, you might want to thank my 'rent-boy' some day. He talked me out of some of my more vindictive impulses."

"I find that hard to believe." And difficult to swallow, he might have added, but didn't. Lex heard it, anyway.

"Oh, don't think it was done out of any consideration for you. Like you, however, he considered I'd be wasting my time on it. He had better things for me to do," he added, with a slow, heavy-lidded smile, the innuendo unmistakable.

"Spare me," Lionel snapped.

"Then don't bring my choice of partner into the conversation again," Lex returned, with deceptive amiability.

"Then shall we talk about you teaching - _teaching_ , for God's sake! - in Boston?"

"They invited me, while I'm working on my Ph.D. It's something of an honor, actually, especially at my age."

"You're a businessman...."

"I'm a scientist and an engineer. Business is kind of a side-effect, you know?"

"Maybe that's why you're going off into insane side-deals, like the Daegu business? Really, Lex, if GM couldn't afford to keep it going…and I am surprised at Lucius Fox accepting to get involved with such a stupid deal. Or is this another little arrangement you have with Wayne, like the purchase of the Smallville plant?" he questioned acidly, as if there was a bad taste in his mouth.

"I've got my reasons." Lex straightened from his relaxed slouch. "Have you got anything constructive to say to me, Dad, or is it all going to be recriminations and hot air? Because if so, I'll be moving along."

"Don't use that tone with me!"

"Then don't waste my time. You know, one TV report I saw about all this business between us called it a divorce. That seemed appropriate to me; you should start thinking the same way. My future is no longer your concern."

He stood gracefully, his gaze straying briefly across the room to where the tall, beautiful young man stood, and then he glanced back down at his father. An enigmatic smile touched his lips.

"I could give you a very sound piece of investment advice, but I'm sure you'd only go out and do the exact opposite, and I don't honestly feel like seeing you make a complete fool of yourself all that often. Good night, Dad."

* * *

Clark let himself be guided by the mayor's daughter. He liked her and found her company agreeable, and was also noticing, with a complex mix of admiration and amusement, that she actually seemed to be enjoying herself doing the rounds of the guests in the room.

"You like this, don't you?" he asked her outright at one point, between introductions.

"What?" She looked up at him brightly.

He made an indeterminate gesture around the room. "This - Lex would call it schmoozing."

She chuckled. "Well, yes, I guess. I'm probably going to pick political science as my major."

"I think just trying to remember all the names and faces would put me off a political career," he smiled wryly.

"It's a knack you get into."

"I know. Lex never forgets anybody."

"How did you meet?" she asked him curiously.

Clark grinned. "He ran me over."

"What?"

"Well, almost. He was driving too fast - as usual - and went off the road at a bridge, narrowly missing me at the same time, and I fished him out of the river."

"Wow. That's - almost - incredibly romantic!"

"At the time, it was just terrifying, believe me."

"No love at first sight?" she teased him.

"I don't think so. Friendship, yes. The rest just… developed over time." He always avoided implying that he and Lex had started sleeping together just after his sixteenth birthday. It was obvious that most people, even those openly tolerant of their relationship, were happier with the idea that the sexual aspect of it was comparatively recent. While he was thinking of that, however, he had another question.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Sometimes you introduce me kind of vaguely, as if I, well, might be your date, and sometimes you introduce me specifically as Lex's partner. Is that because you know who's likely to react positively or not to that information?"

"Yes, pretty well. Although, with the seating at the top table, it was obvious you're with Lex. Well, some people won't actually have noticed - it is kind of busy here," she smiled, "and others, well, won't have wanted to notice, if you get my meaning." She tilted her head, giving him a thoughtful look. "My turn to ask if you mind if I ask a personal question."

"Sure."

"Are you out, at home? At school?"

"Uh - we haven't exactly taken out an ad in the paper, but, yeah, basically."

"You're not having any problems?"

He shrugged a little. "There are always some jerks. Otherwise, I guess it's a bit like you said. It's possible for some people just to pretend there's nothing to notice. Those I thought were my friends are still my friends, so that's worked out okay."

"That's good," she smiled.

He nodded. "You seem cool with it."

She looked him up and down, with a little smirk. "I think it's a crying shame, if you really want to know." She laughed when Clark gave her an astonished look. "Well, you're off the market, aren't you? So is Lex, and he's nearly as good-looking as you are. Let me tell you something, us girls, we have a saying that all the interesting men are either married or gay, but it's not usually supposed to apply 'til you get to your thirties, really. Except there's the two of you…" She gave an exaggerated sigh of regret.

He smiled, blushing a little, and shook his head mock-reproachfully. She giggled, then seized his arm.

"The dancing's started. Come on, you owe me at least one, I think. One thing you're not going to be able to do here is dance with Lex!"

Clark grinned swiftly. "We don't, anyway. Not this kind of dancing, at any rate. We've never managed to settle on who's going to lead."

What she didn't tell him was that for a couple of minutes now she had noticed Lionel Luthor's attention focused on her tall companion, and she didn't like his expression very much. When he seemed to be making a move in their direction, she decided it was time for them to be elsewhere.

* * *

"You're a mover and a shaker, Mr. Luthor. You like to see things get done, you'll do it yourself if you have to, and you're not afraid to rock the boat. We need people like you, and when I say 'we,' I'm not just talking about the party, but this city, this state, maybe even further."

"I know I said I was ambitious, Senator, but that's starting to sound a little over-reaching," Lex said mildly, his expression slightly amused.

"That's for you to say one day. Right now, though, and in the immediate years to come, there's a need for what you and Alan have already demonstrated here, new blood and independent thinking. Just look at the way things have been run around here for years - they're going in circles, deadlocked. What one side implements, the other pulls down. The voters are apathetic in the face of the same old, same old. If these elections called out 68% of Metropolis' voting population, it's because they saw they were finally being offered a real choice. We can go on that way, with the right kind of support, and with the right kind of people. You liked what the Tomorrow Party stands for enough to back our candidate here, and nobody's going to argue that you won this election for us."

"I liked specifically what Alan had to offer Metropolis," Lex interrupted. "I've never said that I buy wholeheartedly into your entire agenda."

"Then if parts of it don't please you, make your voice heard within the party. You can breathe new life into us, make us the force we've always tried to be, and give yourself the voice you want to make the changes you want to see."

Lex was silent, thoughtful, studying his silver-haired interlocutor carefully, before speaking again. "I'm not ready for the political arena yet, Senator. I have other plans that need to be fulfilled first. Also, I think you're not ready for me, because I don't believe you're speaking for all your party, if you'll forgive me for saying so."

"These aren't the kind of decisions that get made overnight. We're talking long-term planning here. There's time for you to decide how far you want to go, and time for our people to realize the kind of benefits you could bring to us."

"Do you really think your people could ever be prepared for my controversial reputation, and my, ah, alternative lifestyle?" Lex challenged smilingly.

"Times are changing, and so must we, if we don't wish the Tomorrow Party to become yesterday's party. I'm sure the pluses will outweigh the minuses." The senator sat back. "I'm hardly expecting an immediate answer, Mr. Luthor. I just wanted to plant a seed."

Lex nodded slowly. "Consider it planted." He got to his feet, a move echoed by the other man, and offered his hand. "Nice meeting you, Senator. I will be thinking about what you've said."

"I'm sure we'll be seeing each other around," the older man smiled, shaking Lex's hand firmly. "Thank you for your time."

When Lex had left his father at the table, he had meant to rejoin Clark, but Towers had waylaid him and introduced him to this smoothly spoken senator. Lex had been sufficiently intrigued to settle at a discreet, two-seater table and listen to what the other man had to say, and he didn't regret it, even though politics did not figure largely in his plans at the moment. Now he went around the rest of the room, working it deftly. He was quite capable of exerting a good deal more charm, but this was not his event, so he played it quietly and gracefully. With a little smile, he noticed Sherry drag Clark off to the dance floor, and after a moment paid his own lip service to the event by inviting Towers' wife to dance, but when it was over, he was at Clark's elbow.

"Hey, Lex." Clark's smile was as glowing as ever, but Lex could see a hint of vulnerability in the blue eyes, and cursed himself for putting it there. "How did it go?"

"Relatively civilized, as a matter of fact. I probably haven't heard the last of it, but he obviously wasn't prepared to cause a scene tonight. How about you? Is it time I rescued you?" he teased lightly. He could sense Clark relax a little.

"Okay. I think I've met just about everyone, thanks to Sherry. She says you and I can't dance here, though," he added, with fake regret.

"You will insist on leading," Lex chided lightly.

"I'm taller than you. It's natural," Clark pointed out, all sweet reason.

"Right," Lex drawled, then grinned swiftly at the girl's giggle. "Seriously, Sherry, thank you for looking after Clark," he said, his charm suddenly turning on full throttle.

She smiled and, to Clark's amusement, blushed a little. "It was my pleasure, Lex, really. You're a lucky guy."

Lex smiled as he looked up at his young lover. "I know," he said quietly, and watched the light bloom in Clark's eyes and the megawatt smile appear.

"I think we're going to call it a night. Unless," he added, for Clark's benefit, "you do want to go dancing. In which case, sure, but not here, and not in these outfits," he added, with a wicked smile.

Clark looked at him for a moment, then leaned in and whispered something in Lex's ear that the girl couldn't catch. Whatever it was, it was enough to darken Lex's eyes, and make him moisten his lips reflexively, though that was the only outward indication of a reaction. That and the heated look he gave his lover when Clark pulled back again.

"Promises, promises, farmboy," he said, in a low tone.

Clark was smiling, too, his eyes also darkened. "I always keep mine," he said teasingly.

"Oh, for God's sake, get a room before you set off the sprinkler system," Sherry laughed.

They both grinned back at her, and then went to take their leave of their host.

* * *

In the glass-fronted lobby of the hotel, while the valet went to order up Lex's limo, Clark moved right into Lex's personal space and slid two fingers under his jawline to lift his face gently. Lex, a little surprised, but more intrigued, let him do so.

"I didn't see it earlier," Clark said, rubbing his thumb gently along Lex's cheek to remove a faint mauve smudge. "Someone smooched you."

"Several did, actually, but I guess they didn't all leave lipstick traces."

"It was just a shadow, but it shows up a lot on your skin in strong light like this."

"Thank you, Clark," Lex said, trying not to laugh. "You do know there are about a hundred photographers outside those plate glass walls, right?" When he made a faint sound of assent, Lex did laugh softly, and added, "Possessive, much?"

Clark's smile just deepened a little further. "Cuts both ways, Lex."

Lex looked up at him, lips parted a little, and for a moment, Clark thought he was going to be kissed, right in front of all the waiting reporters - but then the parking valet returned, announcing their limo was ready. Lex turned towards the exit, though not without a last, smoldering, heavy-lidded glance at Clark.

"Ready for this?" he tossed over his shoulder.

"As I'll ever be," Clark acknowledged wryly.

Lex had faced worse barrages in the first days after the start of his lawsuit against his father. He ignored the called questions - a lot of which were inaudible, anyway - and Clark did the same, and they made it into the limo without much difficulty.

In the silence of the dark car, Lex reached for Clark's hand. "There'll probably be photographs of you touching my face all over the tabloid press within three or four hours."

"I guess. It doesn't matter. Everybody who matters here already knows about us; it won't be a surprise to them."

Lex threaded his fingers through Clark's. "Forgiven me?" he asked, in a quiet voice.

"What for?"

"For brushing you off like that? I really didn't mean it quite the way it sounded. I'd much rather you didn't run into Dad again anytime soon, though. He's definitely ticked that I'm not planning on being a breeder."

"Lex! That's a dreadful term to use."

"Well? I'm not. Unless you haven't told me something?" he added archly, and was rewarded with a splutter of laughter from the teenager. "Anyway, he certainly blames you. Though," he added reflectively, "he did compliment me on my taste."

"Eew! Gross, Lex!" Clark shuddered at the thought of being found attractive by Lionel.

Lex grinned in the shadows and slid across the seat to rest against Clark. The boy immediately tucked him against his side, underneath one arm, his full mouth brushing lightly against the satin-smooth bare skin of Lex's head, a sensation that Lex adored.

"I've forgiven you," Clark said after a moment. "But you've got to let me fight my own battles."

"Nothing to do with my dad is ever going to be your own battle, Clark. If it wasn't for me, he'd just ignore your existence, you know that. I accept what you say. I don't think… I've tried not to be too controlling, I hope," he said a little painfully. "It's probably as well that I'm not actually around 24/7…"

"Lex - I love you. Even when you're trying to run my life," he joked tenderly.

"I'm hearing a 'but' in there."

Clark drew a deep breath. "I'm afraid."

Lex started up, eyes glinting in the dim interior. "What?"

"I get that you want to protect me. I get that you're - well, controlling, you always have been, and you need to be, a lot of the time. I do need to grow up, though, and you need to let me, because if I don't because you're…"

"Smothering you?" Lex asked bitterly.

"Being a little over-protective," he corrected gently. "Or else just because I get lazy, and let you do all that for me? If I let that happen, I'm going to lose you, I know it. Why would you be interested in me if I just let you do everything for me? That's not who I was when we first met, it's not who I am now, and it's not the person you fell in love with."

"Lose me? Clark…are you crazy?" he asked, with such a note of astonishment in his voice that Clark didn't quite know whether to laugh or to cry. He reached out to cup the smooth curve of Lex's head lovingly.

"No, Lex," he said unsteadily. "I'm not crazy. Except about you."

Before he could say anything else, Lex's mouth was fastened on his, fiery and passionate, devouring, fierce and possessive.

"I could no more lose interest in you than I could stop breathing. And, damn you, I told you that, more than two years ago!" Lex ground out, when he pulled back from the blistering heat of that kiss.

Clark tried to soothe him with gentle touches. "I know. I remember. The night I was teasing you, before we became lovers. You told me you couldn't breathe without me. I do remember, Lex. But, you see, that's it. That's what's changing. You knew, then. I didn't. I didn't really take you completely seriously. Now - now I know you mean it. I have changed. I'm not done changing, and you have to let it happen. As I have to let you, because you're not done, either."

"So…?"

Clark laughed softly. "How do I know? I'm just an eighteen-year-old farmboy, head-over-heels with a city slicker five years older and a century more experienced than me!"

Lex grinned, leaning in to nibble at Clark's earlobe. "Let's elope to Vermont and get married."

"Lex!"

He sniggered, and nestled into Clark's hold, tucking himself under the his chin. "Okay - what have we established? You're not tired of me…"

"Absolutely not!"

"And I'm definitely not tired of you. Which is why we're off to the penthouse to make mad, passionate love for the rest of tonight and probably most of tomorrow?"

"Right," Clark agreed, laughter in his voice.

"And - I'm not smothering you?"

"No."

"But you think I should let you fight your own battles?"

"Uh-huh."

"If I'm not smothering you, Clark, how am I to know which are your own battles? I don't count anything involving Dad, by the way. He is my father, not yours."

"Well, there's a point. You don't need to defend me against my own father."

"I thought I was defending myself," Lex commented wryly.

"You can leave that to me, too."

"Ah-ah - aren't we getting into 'fighting own battles' turf there? Your father has no problems with you, only with me - though we're getting there, slowly," he acknowledged, before Clark could make the point. "Mine has problems with me, mostly, and you only peripherally."

"My father still has a bit of a problem that I'm in love, and want to live with you."

"Well, he's being a lot more civilized about it than mine is, let me tell you," Lex chuckled bitter-sweetly.

"You might say I kind of blackmailed him, emotionally speaking." He smiled a little crookedly when Lex gave him a curious glance. "I've never told him you also think I should keep living at home while I'm still in school."

Lex put his head back down, shaking it slightly. "I definitely think I'm a bad influence on you. You never used to know what 'devious' meant. So he objected to you spending weekends at my place, and you threatened him with moving out altogether?"

"Yeah, more or less. Or rather, Mom and I did. I don't think I'd have had the nerve on my own. I'm not that devious."

Lex looked up, startled. "Your mother?"

Clark grinned, white teeth bright in the darkness, and he stroked Lex's skull again. "She likes you. Always has. She thinks Dad's a little unreasonable."

"Your mother's a wonderful woman," Lex said fervently.

"Hey! No fantasizing about my Mom!" Clark objected loudly.

Lex cracked up.

 

**End Chapter Sixteen**


	17. The Oak and the Cypress (17/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 17 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 5415  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths, (possible, slight) squick. (That's right, no more chan warning, the boys are legal from here on. No more squick either, come to think of it, or at least, I don't think so.)

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

June, 2009

Lex was at the international airport to meet them, looking almost ridiculously cool and stylish in a natural linen suit, with a form-fitting, gray-blue T-shirt beneath.

"Clark's at rehearsals," he said without preamble, leaning down to kiss Martha's cheek lightly. "Good trip?" He looked Jonathan up and down, his trademark smirk appearing as he took in the tall farmer's somewhat stiff gait. "Bet you're wishing you'd let me get those upgrades," he commented a little smugly.

"If you're going to start off by saying 'I told you so'…" Jonathan grumbled.

Lex just grinned. He and Jonathan would never exactly be friends, but they had made peace over the years for Clark's sake, and in doing so, had discovered a measure of respect for each other along the way. This meant Lex got to take the occasional pot shot at Jonathan's stiff-necked pride, without the farmer getting too creased over it. Lex usually knew where to draw the line.

"I was wondering if you might want to go shopping," Lex said to Martha, casually, as they waited by the carousel for the luggage to come through. "I realize you're probably tired, but it's not a good idea to give in to jet-lag. It's best to retrain your internal clock as quickly as possible."

"Do I need to go shopping?" she asked, a little perplexed.

Lex was looking a touch embarrassed, unusually for him, and smoothed a hand over his bare scalp. "Uh - I'm not sure how to say this without coming across as a complete prick, but," he said honestly, "well, you did call to ask me what you should be wearing to the graduation."

"You said, 'garden party'."

"Right - and I meant it. It is going to be a garden party, literally, but not quite the way you might interpret it, and I should have remembered that. Don't get me wrong, Martha, you're a lovely woman, and I'm sure whatever you've brought looks great on you, but…"

"You think it might not be smart enough?" She wasn't - quite - vexed.

"Actually, I think you might find it's too smart," Lex corrected gently. "I'm well aware that it can be as embarrassing to be overdressed as to be underdressed. You're going to be shaking a lot of hands on Friday. Clark's made a real impression here, and the faculty, at the very least, is going to want to meet his parents. I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

She gave him a wry look. "If you didn't look so uncomfortable yourself right now, I might think you were being rude, Lex. Look, why don't you just take us to our hotel, and you can inspect what I brought for yourself."

"Oh," he said, reaching for the second bag Jonathan had indicated, while Jonathan picked up the first case, "you're not going to the hotel, you're staying with us."

That brought Jonathan up short. "Now, wait a minute…!"

"Don't waste your breath on me, Jonathan," Lex cut him off, "you can argue that out with your son, it's his idea. Besides, you're not going to be our only guests. Roberto's arriving tonight."

"Granforte? The linguistics professor?" Martha asked, interested. "Clark's talked about him so much these last four years. I'd like to meet him at last."

"Well," Lex smiled, accompanying them as they cleared Customs - and it was only then that Jonathan registered that Lex had actually been allowed inside the usual restricted zone - "it's mutual. He would very much like to meet you. Though, I should warn you," he added casually, glancing back at Jonathan as he fed the machine for his parking lot ticket, "he's as queer as a three dollar bill and will probably make a pass at you, just on a matter of principle."

Jonathan went scarlet, and Martha thumped Lex's shoulder. "Stop that, Lex," she scolded.

Lex chuckled. "I'm not kidding. Roberto is gay and he does tend to make passes, systematically, at any good-looking men he meets."  
"Whether they're straight or not?" she asked, mildly scandalized.

"Oh, he doesn't believe there's any such thing as a completely heterosexual male. Nothing ventured, nothing gained is very much his philosophy. Don't worry, he doesn't take rejection personally, not if it's civilized."

Martha shot a worried look at her husband, who looked ready to combust, and then at Lex, who had a definite cat-and-canary smirk.

"Lex, still…" she pleaded slightly.

He slid her a sideways look. "Oh, come on. It'd be fun."

"Lex, you're just being mischievous. You tell your friend to leave my Jonathan alone."

"Martha - " Jonathan evidently thought he could look after himself, but she shot him a cross glare, and he subsided. Lex, on the other hand, was not so easily subdued.

"On one condition," he said.

"What?"

"If I'm not happy with your graduation outfit, you let me take you shopping."

"I'm not letting you buy me clothes, Lex," she said firmly.

He sighed. "Okay. But since your accommodation's being taken care of, you've got extra pocket money, right?"

She had to grin. "I haven't had pocket money since I was eighteen."

"So enjoy it," he coaxed. "I guarantee I can help you find something perfect that you'll feel you can afford."

"You're not bothering for Jonathan," she challenged.

"It's easier for men. I've seen his best suit; it'll do fine if it's in the same condition as last year. His height and looks will do the rest. You - you deserve to be showcased. I'm not trying to turn you into something you're not, Martha, just to make the most of what you are. Just - trust me?"

He rarely asked for understanding like this, she recognized, and was a little touched by it, even though she was still unsettled by the whole tenor of the conversation.

"You're assuming that what I've got won't be right," she argued, though mildly.

He looked at her, an oddly affectionate glint in his eye. "Let me guess," he said. "You went to a Metropolis dress shop and they talked you into a smart, sleeveless, pale lavender dress in some fairly stiff material - maybe linen - with a matching, voile, long-sleeved over-tunic, maybe with a small cream print? If you hadn't been flying, you'd even have a matching hat."

She gave him an utterly astounded look. "Lex!"

He returned it with a twisted smile. "Predictable as all hell. Especially when the lavender shades are in vogue, and the customer's a redhead. It'll do very nicely for dinner tomorrow night, we're going to a three-star restaurant. Just give me a chance to introduce you to some real Italian class, in a more casual style."

He ushered her - still rather shocked at his astonishingly accurate prediction of her new dress - into the back seat of the Alfa Romeo coupé.

"You know entirely too much about women's fashions," Jonathan commented acidly as he got into the passenger seat.  
"I've got eyes in my head," he returned calmly. "Just because I'm living with another guy doesn't mean I don't notice women anymore, as well as what makes them look good."

In the afternoon, therefore, Lex and Martha disappeared back into town, leaving Jonathan to relax with cable TV that offered more than a few channels in English, and the rooftop swimming pool. They had barely returned, Martha sparkling-eyed, when Clark positively bounced in, followed by a very handsome man in his late thirties.

"Lex, are they…? Mom!" He caught his mother up in an exuberant hug, lifting her off her feet to twirl her in mid-air.

"Put me down, you big lug. Honestly, you're as bad as your father," she laughed.

"That's a compliment," he grinned, but put her down, and turned to hug his father. "Hey, Dad. Good trip?"

"A little hard on the knees," he admitted, aware of Lex smirking in the background.

Lex had greeted Roberto more quietly while this was going on, and was now simply waiting to complete the introductions. He had, as he had promised Martha, murmured a gentle warning to his old friend not to tease Jonathan by flirting with him. Roberto had rolled his eyes, but acquiesced silently and instead, when Lex introduced them, bowed extravagantly over Martha's hand, so that she blushed and smiled like a teenager. Clark looked at Lex in surprise, but Lex simply smiled slyly. Clark narrowed his eyes and snagged his lover by the waist, drawing him aside a little and kissing him lightly.

"You're up to something," he said firmly.

Lex smirked. "Good evening to you, too, Clark. How were the rehearsals?"

"Boring," he replied succinctly. "Lex…"

"You don't trust me?" Lex was never exactly able to master the art of pouting - unlike Clark - but he had managed to achieve a sort of vulnerable, almost reproachful look that had pretty much the same effect on Clark as any more traditional form of pouting could have done.

Clark groaned almost inaudibly, and buried his face in the curve of Lex's throat. "Bastard," he whispered lovingly, inaudibly to anyone except Lex.

Lex just smiled, and stroked his black hair gently. They had been together for seven years now, and the novelty and the joy of their relationship was showing absolutely no signs of wearing off. Here in this apartment, this was their territory. They had always been wary of public displays of affection anywhere else, but this was their home, and neither was willing to hold back with the other just because they had guests.

* * *

They had all retired relatively early that first night, after dinner in the apartment, and Jonathan was up fairly early the next morning. Not at his usual time, which was around five a.m., but early enough that everything seemed very still. All three bedrooms had their own en-suite facilities, so he was dressed when he wandered out to the living area. Not surprisingly, everything was immaculate. He knew Clark would have taken care of that, either the previous night after everyone was in bed, or first thing this morning. Judging from the aroma of brewing coffee, it had been first thing in the morning. He looked around for his son, and then spotted him.

Not just Clark, but Lex, too. They were out on the sun-roof, at the far end of the pool, both in robes, looking out over the city. Lex stood enfolded in Clark's embrace, leaning gracefully into his bigger frame. There was something indescribably peaceful about their combined forms.

"I do not suppose it can have been too easy," came a well-modulated voice from behind him, "accepting that. Yet - they fit together."

Looking at the two young men, Jonathan had to agree that they did fit. Their bodies meshed together seamlessly, harmoniously, with the ease of long-term lovers, the kind of ease he knew he had with his wife.

"No, it hasn't been easy," he acknowledged honestly. He had been a little wary of the Italian, largely because of Lex's teasing, but over dinner the previous evening, he had come to understand why Clark had appreciated him as a mentor throughout his four years' study in Siena.

"Lex says it is more because he is a Luthor, than because he is male," Granforte commented calmly. "That you are still not entirely comfortable with him, that is. Though it seems to me that you are not dealing so badly with each other."

Jonathan looked over his shoulder at the Italian. "You might say we've come to terms. Otherwise, that's pretty accurate, about him being a Luthor," he admitted. "That must seem kinda contradictory to you."

"Oh, I understand why anyone might be wary of a Luthor. I met Lex's grandfather once, when I was quite young, did you know?"

Jonathan turned, interested. "No, I didn't. What was he like?"

"Something in between his son and his grandson. Of course, he was very elderly by then, but I could still see some things. The same ambition, the same drive. Not as intelligent as Lex - though there are few who are, not even your own boy."

"I've come to realize that," he acknowledged.

"Also not as - I don't know how to put this. Lionel - likes to play games?"

"Lex plays games with everyone," Jonathan objected.

"Not in the same way, save, perhaps, with his father, but that is because that is all Lionel understands. Lionel devises games as tests of strength, and he tests to destruction. Lex views that as foolish and wasteful, not to mention boring. I am not saying that he does not test people, and he does like to tease, always," he chuckled a little, "but he is not destructive."

"How long have you known Lex?"

"Half his life, almost. There was a time when I believed he was going to end up just like Lionel, but I think your son came along and changed that, for which I will be forever grateful. Lex was a wonderful boy, so bright and passionate and alert, once out from under his father's eye. He is that once more, if more controlled. There is that astonishing brain, too, of course. That is something Lionel never understood."

Jonathan smiled faintly. "I get that. It must drive him up the wall to think that his son is so much more intelligent than he is."

Granforte's dark eyes regarded him with a certain degree of amusement. "That is understandable. What father likes to think that his son has become something he can never comprehend, after all? You are not altogether comfortable with Clark's path yourself."

"I'm a farmer, Professor. The land means everything to me. It's a little hard to accept that I'm not really going to be able to pass that on to my son, because his interests lie elsewhere. Do you mind if I ask what your parents did?"

Granforte spread his hands self-deprecatingly. "School teachers. They were very pleased with me. Apart from the fact that I would not marry and provide them with lots of grandchildren, of course."

Jonathan half-smiled and turned his gaze outwards again, to where the interlaced lovers stood. "That's something that's bothering Lionel, too, I gather."

"Forgive me for asking - not you?"

"They haven't told you?" Jonathan was a little surprised. "Clark's adopted. Martha and I found out even before he came along that we couldn't have children of our own. I won't say I've never thought about grandchildren, but not often. Clark was a miracle and once was amazing enough. Wanting two miracles just seems like greed."

The Italian was astonished. "I had no idea. It is true that he does not look much like either of you, but that is not so unusual. He is a lucky boy."

"Thank you. Though we tend to think we're the lucky ones."

"Far be it from me to contradict doting parents," he laughed. "Let us say you have been fortunate in each other." He turned his attention to the kitchen. "Ah - fresh coffee. Foolish boys, to leave it unattended," he commented gleefully. "You were looking for the same thing?"

"We could use a couple of mugs," Jonathan agreed amiably.

* * *

Lex had woken very early, and had slid quietly out of bed to do some laps in the temperature-controlled pool. That was where Clark found him a little later when his subconscious had registered the empty space at his side. He waited for Lex with his robe, an indulgent smile on his face.

"Too hyped?" he asked, wrapping Lex in the soft folds of the robe.

Lex let himself be coddled, enjoying the attention.

"Maybe a little," he conceded.

"That should be my thing."

"You find easy outlets. You burn it off speeding through the cleaning up," Lex teased.

"It's easier still when I get laid by you," Clark said huskily.

Lex tipped his head back. "I'd oblige, but you're such a screamer…" he taunted wickedly.

"You're just going to have to owe me," he returned, unfazed.

Lex smiled and kissed him, hard at first, then very tenderly. "Why didn't you tell them?" he asked.

Clark sighed. "I - it's stupid, I know."

"The quicker you tell them, the easier it'll be, you know. They're going to find it hard enough to swallow that you're off for eighteen months to look for the Abominable Snowman," Lex said solemnly.

"I'm _not_ going looking for the…" The glint in Lex's eye stopped him, and his sigh this time was exasperated. "Bastard."

"I get you every time with that one," Lex chuckled.

"Just because I'm going to Nepal," Clark groused, then smiled wryly. "I'll do it tonight, I promise. I just - couldn't get the words out last night. It's bad enough having to leave you for that long."

"It's the right thing for you."

"I'll miss you."

"And I you, but it's not until the New Year, and it's not like we've never been separated before, Clark. That's been the rule rather than the exception, for us."

"I know, but this feels different. I'm going to be really out of touch for ages. Even if you could fly into Kathmandu or Lhasa weekly, I'm not going to be anywhere near anything resembling 'civilization' for months on end."

"Kathmandu might be doable occasionally, but I have my doubts about Lhasa," Lex mused idly.

"Why?" Clark asked, intrigued.

"I haven't tried it yet, but let's just say I doubt the Chinese government would be too keen to see someone like myself wandering around their backwaters. Beijing, Shanghai or Hong Kong would be one thing - anywhere else, I've got my suspicions that I wouldn't be too welcome," Lex commented, amused.

"They're a lot more open these days," Clark objected.

"Up to a point," Lex said dryly. "I'll admit I'm not eager to put it to the test yet. Anyway, that doesn't have anything to do with your hunt for the Abominable Snowman."

Clark rolled his eyes. "Lex!"

"Oh, come on, indulge me. That sounds a lot more entertaining to me than an exploration of 650 Tibeto-Burman dialects, or however many it is," he added quickly, before Clark could set him straight. "Anyway," he kissed Clark again, "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be waiting for you."

"Promise?"

Lex stroked a hand through the thick, black hair. "You think I might be unfaithful?"

"No, but it's going to be a long time. I just - oh, it's dumb, but I feel vaguely guilty at tying you down."

"I've been trying to talk you into that for ages!"

"Lex!" Clark protested, then laughed. "You have a one-track mind sometimes."

"Look who's talking. Which reminds me, I expect to hear from you every time you do get access to a satellite uplink, by the way!"

"Oh, that'll go down well with my expedition chief. 'Scuse me, gotta talk dirty to my boyfriend.'" Clark grinned.

Lex grinned back. "Okay, I'll excuse you the talking dirty part, but not the contact. He'll swallow it when you tell him it's me."

Clark knew what that meant, and pushed Lex back a few inches. "Lex. You didn't."

Lex studied him, his face impassive, but the expression in his eyes was wry. "You don't think too much of me sometimes, do you?"

"I think," Clark said seriously, "that you spend your money a little too easily, that's what I think. Now, please tell me you didn't buy my place on this trip?"

Lex sighed. "No, you dolt, I didn't. I offered to assist with the funding after - well after - the team was announced. I did not drop any hints whatsoever beforehand."

Clark drew him in again and nuzzled gently against the smooth, bare scalp. "I'm sorry, Lex, but you know what you're like…"

"I know that I've stopped doing things like that with you because it's not worth the aggravation you put me through," Lex replied tartly, still a little tense under Clark's hands.

Clark leaned his forehead against Lex's and looked extremely contrite, full mouth pouting, lower lip just quivering a little, eyes wide and sad. Lex glared at him.

"Stop that." He sighed again. "You'd think, after all these years, I'd be immune to that look, but, no, I'm just as much a fool for it as I've always been."

Clark smiled, kissing him gently. "You're never a fool, but I'm glad you're not immune to me yet."

Lex's arms twined round his neck. "I never will be."

They kissed, long and lingering, until Clark, with extreme reluctance, pulled back. "I don't think I want my parents to wake up and find their son getting his brains fucked out on the terrace first thing in the morning. Which is where we're heading."

Lex grinned. "Roberto would enjoy the floor show, though."

Clark glanced back towards the patio doors, startled. "Is he up?"

"I'm sure that after five minutes of watching us fooling around, he would be."

"Lex!"

Lex gave a deep chuckle. "Yes, he's awake. So's your dad, but they've both disappeared again. It's early yet." He turned in Clark's arms, drawing them closer around him when he rested back against his lover's bigger frame. "Hold me."

"Always," Clark replied promptly.

"You're such a sap," Lex teased.

"Pot. Kettle. Black," Clark retorted, smiling.

"Regrettably, yes. You're a bad influence on me, Kent."

"I love you, too." They were silent for a while, looking out over the waking city again. "What are you going to do with this place?" he asked eventually.

Lex considered. "You like it here, don't you?"

"I've never been happier. It's not the place, though, you know that. It's you."

"Still - we could keep it."

"It's not safe enough, is it, Lex?" the younger man asked quietly. When Lex was silent, he said, "I didn't think so. It's too difficult to make it so, right? The building's too old. It's been okay for a temporary home, especially with you still coming and going all the time, but not as a permanent one."

"Pretty much."

"Then don't keep it. And, Lex - I want you to promise me you won't go public about the fuel thing until I'm back."

"Clark…"

"No. I know you can install security tighter than even the President gets, but I still want to be there to protect you. You know that, in the end, I'm your surest bet."

"I also know that's the best way of getting you exposed."

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. Lex, promise me."

"These things have a natural time span, Clark, and we're reaching the end here. I can't promise you. The rumors have already started."

"What?" Clark was startled. "You never said…"

"You were too wrapped up in your finals," he smiled wryly. "Not that you pay a lot of attention to the business news, anyway. The closer we get to a working version, ready for commercialization, the harder it's going to be to keep a complete lid on it. Then there are the alterations at the car plant; they couldn't go unnoticed forever, either." He could feel the tension in the big body behind him. "I will take every precaution, I swear, but I can't make promises I can't keep. Not to you."

"Shit, Lex…"

"Don't even think of not going to Nepal," he said sternly. "I can keep myself out of trouble for a year or so."

"Liar. Your middle name's trouble."

"It's Joseph, actually," came the mild response.

Clark nipped sharply at one ear lobe. "Idiot."

"Clark, believe me, I have absolutely no intention of getting myself killed," Lex sighed. "I'm enjoying life far too much."

"That's good to hear," Clark grumbled slightly.

Lex tipped his head back to smile up at him. "You had doubts? What's not to enjoy? I'm in good health, I'm financially independent, I'm doing work I'm extremely good at…"

"Modest, much?" Clark breathed.

Lex ignored that. He was not and never had been particularly modest. "I have a beautiful, sexy, young lover…"

"Who's going to be worried sick about you for months!"

"Which is why you're going to call me every chance you get," he smirked, "and screw what your expedition head thinks."

"I want to see if you say that again after you meet him," Clark said dryly. "I'll introduce you tomorrow."

"He's going to be there?"

"Absolutely."

"My dear Clark, he's going to be perfectly charming to me. I am, after all, providing a certain amount of funding."

Clark grinned. "You're in for a surprise. I don't think 'charming' is in his vocabulary."

"An eccentric?"

"Big time."

"That should be entertaining."

Clark buried his laughing face in the curve of Lex's shoulder. Lex, smiling, tipped his head back again, and reached up and back to ruffle his dark hair affectionately.

"It's not just the sex I'm going to miss," Clark murmured directly into his ear, "it's the sarcasm."

"Got to have something to offset your - I don't know what to call it - boy-scoutness?"

Clark's sniggers quickly turned to full-out laughter, the deep rumbles shaking Lex, held close to him, until Lex had to laugh, too.

"I do love you," Clark said, with simple pleasure.

For a moment, Lex felt almost drunk with joy. Then he detached himself gently from Clark's embrace.

"Clark - don't move, okay?"

Clark gave him a querying look, but then shrugged his acceptance with an amused smile, and Lex walked quickly back into the condo.

He fleetingly acknowledged the presence of his former tutor, disappearing into his room, and then returning a minute or so later, clearly heading back out to the terrace again.

"Lex!" Roberto called, amused.

The younger man stopped, with visible reluctance. "Roberto?"

"Clark's parents are awake, you know."

"I could care less right now? Stall 'em if they surface before we come back in," Lex ordered bluntly.

" _Sì, mio Duce,"_ the Italian said dryly, with a crisp, mocking salute.

Lex gave him the bird, grinning, but went back out to where Clark waited for him, still with that fond, shining smile on his face. Lex loved that smile. It told him that Clark trusted him, even when his plans and schemes sounded unutterably far-fetched, and was willing to follow him or support him no matter what. Lex had quickly learned that he did not enjoy causing problems for Clark, so he avoided embroiling the younger man in his more complex schemes - even though Clark had learned to read him very well, and usually wormed the truth out of him sooner rather than later. He wasn't going to have to try this time. Lex could see him watching his return with that tender light in his glorious blue eyes that turned Lex's heart over every time - a true miracle, since Lex had been convinced for years that he didn't have a heart, until Clark had come into his life to give him one.

"I really meant to wait," Lex said, coming up to Clark again, standing very close. "At the very least, until after your graduation. Maybe even until you came back home after your expedition. I really did mean to wait. I don't think I can anymore." He took Clark's hand and placed a small box into it. "I love you. I live that every day of my life, and it means everything to me. I think - I believe - that you return that feeling. If I could make that declaration in front of a minister, or sign to it in front of a town clerk, I would, but I can't. What I can do is offer you the symbol of that commitment, if you'll accept it, and return it."

Clark was overwhelmed. "Lex! Are you asking me to marry you?" he breathed.

Lex smiled, a little sadly, though the light in his eyes was bright. "No. It's not possible, the way things are. I'm asking you to wear my ring, and let me wear yours. Open the box."

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/00008xgf/)

 

Clark found his fingers were trembling as he lifted the lid on the dainty box that had been placed in his hand. On a bed of white cotton wool, two rings lay, overlapping, identical save for the size. Matte, beaten gold, with beveled, diamond-cut edges that caught the light as if there were actual stones set there. He picked up the smaller ring reverently, and looked at Lex, his eyes bright. Lex's breath caught in his throat, and then he offered his left hand to his lover. Clark slid the gold band onto Lex's ring finger.

"No human relation gives one possession in another. Every two souls are absolutely different. In friendship, or in love, the two side by side raise hands together to find what one cannot reach alone," he quoted, his voice quietly reverent, as he placed the ring on Lex's hand.  
Lex took the larger ring. "I can't match those words, only agree with them. Two reaching together to find what one cannot alone."

Clark offered his hand and Lex placed the ring over his finger. It fit perfectly, and Clark's smile turned a little awed.

"You always know what fits me, Lex."

"It's important to me that you're comfortable. Whether it's in a shirt, or in a relationship."

"I wouldn't compare our relationship to a shirt."

"Better that than a pair of shoes," he said solemnly.

Clark laughed out loud, and crushed Lex to him exuberantly.

"Owf! Breathe - Clark - can't…"

Clark let him go hurriedly. "Sorry."

Lex gulped a deep breath of air. "'hat's okay," he reassured him, a little breathlessly.

Clark suddenly eyed him suspiciously. "Ham," he accused.

"Maybe just a little," Lex confessed, smiling slyly. "You're so easy."

"I know. If I'd understood what I was feeling, I'd have been on my back with my legs spread from the second time we met," he grinned broadly.

"The second time?"

"Well - I figure you weren't exactly in the mood the first time, what with being cold and wet and all."

"You were giving me mouth-to-mouth, farmboy. I might not have been when you fished me out initially, but by the time Jonathan came along to extract you from my pernicious influence, I certainly was in the mood!" Lex replied wickedly.

Clark flung back his head and laughed uproariously, while Lex smiled at him so smugly Clark just had to kiss him until he moaned and wrapped his arms around Clark's neck to plaster their bodies together lovingly.

"This is a bad idea," Lex sighed eventually, regretfully. "Your folks are awake." Clark was still kissing him, and this time he really was finding breathing difficult. "They're getting used to me now. The last thing - oh, God! - we want is for them to see us making out on the terrace at dawn!"

He almost whimpered with disappointment when Clark stopped kissing him. Clark chuckled. "Make up your mind, Lex. We stop, or we don't."

The fingers knotted in his hair yanked sharply. Clark couldn't really feel it - he wasn't sufficiently aroused yet for his invulnerability to be breached - but he got the message all the same. He knew all Lex's touches now, like a code on his body. Lex was frustrated. Clark smoothed one large hand over the bald scalp lovingly. Lex rested against him, relaxing once more.

"What was I thinking when I taught you how to tease?" he grumbled.

"Did you teach me?" Clark asked, amused. "I thought it came naturally."

"Oh, you always had a natural talent for it. At least you didn't know you were doing it, at first."

He could hear the smile in Lex's voice, and grinned. "You've got a nerve, anyway, calling me a tease."

"I plan it, though," he responded, the smug note reappearing. "It gets me fucked. Hard."

"Feeling a lack?" Clark queried.

"Mmh - maybe."

"You know what to do about it."

"Yeah, but not for a week. Screamer," he taunted lightly. Then he sighed. "If I didn't love that pretty mouth of yours too much to ever want to gag it…"

"Pervert," Clark said fondly.

"Slut," Lex returned lovingly.

Laughing, they wrapped arms around each other's waists, and returned to the apartment for breakfast.

They both blushed a little - and Lex blushing was an extremely rare sight - to find all three adults patiently waiting breakfast for them. The table was set, fresh coffee was perking, and someone - Roberto, the boys guessed, since he had been there often before - had gone out for fresh croissants and bread. Neither young man offered any explicit commentaries, however, even knowing that their intense discussion - and their equally intense embraces - had surely been witnessed, but simply began talking about the day's plans. They were grateful when the other three followed the lead they had been given.

**End Chapter Seventeen**


	18. The Oak and the Cypress (18/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 18 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 3881  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

In the end, it was straightforward enough. Clark had a free day. Lex had work to do, while Roberto had arranged to meet colleagues at the university. So they planned their separate paths, agreeing to meet in the apartment again in the early evening before all going out to dinner together in an upscale restaurant slightly out of town. Clark's task was simple - to take his parents sightseeing.

He took them to the Cathedral first, and when they had done the interior tour, he showed them one of the aspects he found most fascinating about it. Taking them to visit a beautiful palazzo situated on the same square, he showed them from the loggia how the wealthy citizens of Siena had planned to enlarge the building. From that vantage point, the outline of the intended plans became clear, as well as their enormous scope.

"See," he pointed out the great arcade that was the only completed part of what had been called the 'New Cathedral', "if it had been finished, the building that's there just now would have been nothing more than a transept of the new cathedral. Lex loves this," Clark laughed. "He says it's what he calls restructuring. Then he says that it's a prime lesson about hubris."

"Pride? Why?" Martha asked

"Because it never happened."

"I suppose they ran out of money?"

Clark shook his head. "That wasn't the main reason. Cathedrals took a couple of hundred years to build in those days, of course. The building started back in 1136, and what we just visited was finished about 1284. Then maybe twenty or thirty years later, they started work on the new cathedral. They did run out of money, but what really put a stop to things was the Black Death. They'd barely started, as a matter of fact. The plague arrived in Italy in, um, 1348, and spread all over Europe from there, following the major trade routes. It was the merchant caravans that carried it, mostly - that's how it arrived here in the first place, of course. The thing is, basically, in the space of two years, it killed one person in three. Which meant that the huge workforce needed to build this kind of thing, not to mention the master craftsmen, architects and artists, they all vanished, and without them there wasn't a single building project that could really be continued effectively. The money was connected, too, of course. The rich died just as readily as the poor, and those left with resources had other things on their mind than cathedral building. Though you do get quite a few private chapels, kind of on an ex-voto basis. That's beside the point. The thing is, the folk at the time, well, they saw it a little like Lex does, as punishment for overweening ambition."

"They thought this was divine retribution?" Martha asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, sort of," Clark agreed. "There's a heap of diaries and letters from the period, not to mention the impact on art and sculpture where you've got this really macabre sense of mortal futility. If it wasn't, like, the next Flood, then it was the end of the world. After it was over, and the world was still standing, you get this bewildered impression from a lot of documents - kinda 'why did God do this to us'? With that, inevitably, you get a lot of folk who believed that they must have deserved it somehow. What's more, there's a real setback in a lot of domains as a result. There's a big divide in the Middle Ages, 1348 to 1350, because there's this huge drop in the population, and certain sections are hit much harder than others. Education wasn't a common thing at that time, and it tended to be very much in the hands of the monks, who were mostly the only people who had access to, and could understand, written texts. The monks were also carers, though; they tried to help the sick, so of course they got infected, and the mortality rate among them was almost double the average. The other thing was that some people were just looking for anyone to blame, and there was a big wave of anti-Jewish feeling at the time. The Jews were probably the best-educated community within the general population after the members of the religious orders. So you have this huge loss of sources of education and general culture, and projects like that," he gestured at the cathedral, "simply weren't feasible anymore."

He abruptly became conscious of the fact that his parents were looking at him with decidedly odd expressions, and he looked a little sheepish.

"Sorry. I'm lecturing again, aren't I?"

Martha laughed suddenly. "Again? Tell me you're not a tour guide in your spare time."

He grinned. "No, Mom. It's just I find this place - all of Italy, really - completely fascinating. The history's so incredibly rich and varied and, well," he chuckled wickedly, "daytime TV's got nothing on it!" He gave them a dubious look. "You're still looking at me funny."

"Do you remember there used to be a time you could barely string three sentences together without tripping over your tongue, or losing track, or even stammering a little?" Jonathan said gently, with a little smile that was a fine mix of pride and wonder.

"Oh…" Clark ducked his head, a little shyly. "Yeah, I know. Hey, I had to grow up sometime. I, um - I don't mind talking about something that's really interesting. I do still get tongue-tied," he added, in an endearing attempt to be reassuring, "when I have to talk about, you know, anything personal. I'll try to tone the history lectures down a bit, though," he smiled apologetically.

"No, no," Martha wrapped her hands around one of his arms and squeezed fondly, "you just go right ahead. You're pretty good at it."

Over a snack lunch in a bar under the ramparts, Martha brought up a matter she had been wanting to discuss since breakfast. Clark and Jonathan were arguing amiably about the forthcoming World Cup Football tournament. Jonathan, former quarterback that he was, did not take soccer seriously, while Clark had developed the bug in contact with the football-mad Italians. In a lull in the argument, she touched Clark's left hand as it was clasped around his glass of beer.

"Clark, honey - what does this mean?" she asked outright, touching the flat gold band. "You weren't wearing it yesterday, and I saw the same on Lex's hand this morning…"

He looked at her with that transparent look she knew so well. "It means what you think it means, Mom. Yes, Lex has the same. I put it on his hand just as he put his on mine. We're not married - no country recognizes gay marriages yet - but the rings mean the same thing to us as yours mean to you. Commitment and fidelity. That's what he said to me. That he would like to make vows, sign papers, but that all he could offer me right now was the symbol of his feelings. I feel the same."

Jonathan looked at his tall, handsome son anxiously. "Clark…"

"Dad - stop. You don't get it. You still don't get it. You're trying, I know you are, and I'm grateful," Clark said affectionately, "but you've never understood what happens between Lex and me. We - we complement each other. You have this weird fantasy that Lex somehow hypnotized me into this relationship, and that I'm just too naïve and, well, nice, to see that he's really this untrustworthy, manipulative bastard. Well, maybe not that bad, but something along those lines.

"It's not true. It's never been true. I _get_ Lex, I really do. I'm not blind to who and what he is. Nor am I blind to the fact that he's changed quite a bit since I first met him and that's mostly because of me. Yes, he can be manipulative. He's got a mean streak a mile wide, he's ruthless, he's arrogant, he's way too accustomed to getting his own way, he has a distinct tendency to think that the end justifies the means, and he can be a vindictive son of a bitch. But he's not evil. He's just human. He laughs and loves and cries and hates just like everyone else, and we just - mesh. He grounds me, keeps my feet on the ground, keeps me in touch with real life. I keep him from his own worst side. He expects me to hold the moral high ground, and he listens to me. You might say I'm his conscience, and he's my common sense. Or maybe my ambition," he smiled a little. "And I love him with everything I have in me."

He weathered their looks calmly, until Jonathan finally sighed. "Fine. But why did you have to go and pick a Luthor?" he said plaintively.

Clark grinned fleetingly. "Well, you might consider it par for the course, Dad. I'm… a little unusual, right?" he said, with some regard for discretion. "It makes sense to me I should end up with someone equally unorthodox, if completely differently."

"That sounds like the kind of argument Lex would use," he retorted dryly.

"I can't say he hasn't rubbed off on me." Then he went scarlet, as they both raised eyebrows. "Uh - that didn't come out quite right."

"At least you can still blush about it," his mother teased him gently.

He laughed. "Are you kidding? I think if I stopped blushing Lex would shoot me. He loves it."

* * *

There were times when Clark seriously wondered if Lex could read his mind. That evening as they were changing for dinner, Lex wrapped his arms around him from behind, and nibbled on his earlobe gently.

"She spotted the rings, right? Did you survive the third degree?"

Clark put his head back, to rub his cheek against Lex's. "How do you do that?" he asked in mild frustration. "You just seem to pick thoughts right out of my head sometimes."

"I haven't spent the last seven years getting intimately acquainted with you not to be able to read your mind a bit," Lex said suggestively. "So?"

"I told them that if they thought I didn't know exactly what you are, they were mistaken. I said you were a ruthless, vindictive, ambitious bastard," Clark smiled.

"Sounds about right," Lex agreed. "Nice to know you have no illusions about me."

Clark laughed. "Well, that was kind of the point. I also told them I loved you to death."

"Which went down…?"

"Fairly well. I don't lecture my folks often, Lex. When I do, they listen to me."

Lex laughed softly. "Lucky you." One last kiss to the strong column of Clark's neck, and he was released. "That's more than my dad does."

"Has he been getting at you again?"

"Mmh." It was a non-committal sound, and Lex appeared absorbed in the selection of a tie for his outfit.

"Today?"

There was a small nod in response.

"You told him, didn't you? About the rings," Clark said quietly, his gaze compassionate as it rested on his lover's impassive face.

"He's been throwing debutantes at me with monotonous regularity, still convinced I just need a little encouragement to return to the straight and narrow. Well, straight, anyway," Lex said, a little reluctantly. "I thought it was time he should stop, and just… accept it."

"He wasn't pleased."

Lex cut his eyes at Clark, their expression sardonic. "What do you think?"

"I think," Clark reached out to caress the beautiful, bald head lovingly, "that you're incredibly tolerant, and that he's an idiot who doesn't appreciate just how lucky he is you still care enough to want to stay in contact, especially when all he does is hurl abuse at you."

"Oh, I don't mind that, I've been used to that for a very long time. It's when he hurls abuse at you I tend to get a bit upset," he admitted.

"Lex…" He sighed heavily. "How many times do I have to tell you, I don't give a fuck what your father says or thinks about me?"

Lex gave him a sad look. "I know that. It's not about you; I thought you'd have realized that by now. It's about me. I don't like it. I love you, and yet, unfortunately, for some unfathomably bizarre reason, he still matters to me. You only get on his case when he's upset me, or when I'm foolish enough to let you know that he's upset me…. Shut up, Clark, you wanted to know so I'm telling you," he pre-empted an attempted interruption. "I can live with that. He just goes on about everything all the time; my lifestyle and choices, you, the lack of future progeny…. Yet I can't slam the door in his face. That's partly your fault, farmboy; if I did, you'd be the first person urging reconciliation."

"Oh, Lex - what can I do?" Clark asked helplessly.

"Nothing." He smiled wearily. "Everything. Love me."

Clark wrapped his arms around his lover's slim form. "Always."

They clung together, drawing strength and comfort from each other. Clark kissed the bald head that was just in the perfect place for his lips to skim the incredibly soft, smooth skin.

"I'm sorry, Lex. I didn't realize I was making it harder for you to deal with him."

"Don't apologize. You are who you are, who I fell in love with," Lex said, with more calm than he actually felt.

"I…. Lex, I can't help but feel that he doesn't want to break completely with you any more than you do with him," Clark said helplessly.

"I can't make any of the gestures he'd need to bridge the gap," Lex said quietly. "They'd cost way too much. That means it's got to come from him, and I'm not going to listen to him talk about you like you were one of the whores I used to fuck regularly before we met."

"It bothers you more than it bothers me."

"It bothers me. Isn't that enough?"

"But you don't have to defend me!"

Lex put his head back, a deeply sardonic glint in his eyes. "Listen to you, Mr. Defender of the Universe. Or would be, if I let you charge out there the way your instincts sometimes make you want to. You're willing to defend pretty much everyone except yourself, but you won't let me defend you? Double standards, much?"

Clark hung his head. "Guilty as charged."

Lex slapped his backside. "Stop that. I will not let anyone - anyone, do you hear me? - denigrate what we have, or mistreat you in any way. I've deserved a lot of the names I've been called, and you know that. In the years before we met, I was anything but an innocent, and I'm well aware of it. But you - you've never done anything of the sort. You have no real experience…"

"I don't want any other experience than what I'm getting from you!" Clark interrupted explosively. "Damn it, will you please accept two things? That I'd have to tell that person what I am, and I really, really, really can't imagine doing that with anyone else I've ever met. Only you. Secondly, I can't imagine for one second that sex with anyone else could possibly be better than it is with you. You've only confirmed that, you know, because you have had the experience, and you say it's best with me. So unless you've been lying about that for years…"

"No, that's never been a lie," Lex put in swiftly, in a low tone.

"I didn't think so," Clark reassured him quickly. "Anyway, I've come to realize over the years that your dad does love you. He's got a completely twisted way of showing it, and I wish that wasn't the case, but there's got to be some kind of middle ground for you both, where you, at least, can get, I don't know, some kind of closure."

"There might be," Lex said coolly, "but it does not include a space where I listen to his rants about you. I'd've thought you understood that. You did the same with your father."

"I didn't have to cut Dad out of my life. He was willing to adjust."

"I know. I've noticed. Part of it is your mother's influence."

"Probably," Clark agreed mildly.

"The other thing is, your parents' fits aren't usually accompanied with some kind of hostile takeover action directed at one of my companies."

"He didn't?"

"You think I'm waiting for it? Dream on, farmboy. Four-alarm alert."

"Only four alarms? Not five?" Clark pretended relief.

Lex gave him a chilly look, and detached himself from Clark's embrace to continue dressing. Clark just watched him fondly, well aware that Lex was equally conscious of his regard. He would have said something more, but the doorbell rang, and Lex was still shirtless.

"I'll get it," Clark said.

Actually, his father had answered the door and was looking, a little surprisedly, at a slim, good-looking, young, blond man clutching a bulging folder. The young man looked equally surprised to see the burly, fifty-something farmer.

_"Buona sera, signor. Cerco il Signor Luthor,"_ the blond asked uncertainly.

From behind Jonathan, Clark called out. "Michel. Dad, it's Lex's P.A. _Entrez, Michel._ "

The farmer stepped aside and the blond man came in, looking relieved at finding someone he recognized.

_"Bonsoir, M. Clark. Je suis désolé d'interrompre…"_

_"Non, pas du tout. J'imagine que c'est Lex qui vous a appelé, de toute façon. Il s'habille, il sera là dans un instant."_ Clark smiled easily, and switched to English. "In the meantime, let me introduce you. Dad, this is Michel Deshayes. Michel, my father."

The young man lit up, and shook Jonathan's hand enthusiastically. "It is an honor, Mr. Kent," he said, in perfectly good, if slightly accented English.

Lex emerged from the bedroom, buttoning his shirt cuffs, but otherwise immaculate. "Ah, Michel, I hoped it was you." He smiled a little at his lover. "Ten minutes? Will you get my vest? It's in the bedroom."

"Five minutes, Lex," Clark corrected firmly. "We've got a half-hour ride."

Lex rolled his eyes. "Five minutes."

Lex and his assistant disappeared into the office, and Clark shook his head, smiling a little. "That'll probably work out to about seven minutes."

"He's still working?" Jonathan asked, a little bemused.

Clark shifted a little uncomfortably. "I think it's some last minute stuff. Apparently, Lionel called today."

Jonathan looked at his son. "Not good?"

Clark shrugged wryly. "Who knows?" he admitted. "Somehow, I'm rarely there when those conversations take place. If I were paranoid, I'd think that Lionel watches for when I leave the premises."

"I didn't realize they were still talking," Jonathan remarked mildly, making sure his voice wasn't accusatory.

Clark looked at him. "I won't let Lex cut all his ties completely. They're still father and son, and there's something pretty strong there, despite a lot of bad history."

"Isn't that something you should leave to Lex to decide?"

"No. Because he can't, and he's quite glad to have a concrete reason for not doing it - namely, me." Clark sounded very sure. "Be right back." He disappeared into their room again for a moment, and Martha emerged.

"Is there a problem?" she asked, having heard the new voice.

"No, I don't think so."

Clark reappeared, carrying a dark blue blazer. "There's no problem, Mom. Lex is just taking care of a couple of last minute details."

Indeed, Lex reappeared just then, his assistant on his heels, now carrying a briefcase.

"… especially no calls. Neither tonight, nor tomorrow until early evening," Lex was instructing him briskly. "Save in the event of an earth-shaking catastrophe, obviously."

"No, sir." He had a faintly amused look, like he had heard this six times already and was just humoring his employer. "You would not care to define earth-shaking catastrophes?"

"No, that's why I hired you," Lex returned in a dry tone, and turned his attention to the Kents, while reaching out for his vest. "Good evening, Martha. You look delightful. Have you met my assistant? Michel Deshayes - Martha Kent."

Martha blushed as the young Frenchman took her hand and bowed over it. Jonathan scowled slightly at the young man.

"You're learning a few bad habits from your boss," he commented tartly.

Deshayes gave him a startled look, and then burst out laughing, as did Clark. Lex just smiled wryly.

Martha thwapped her husband's arm lightly. "Shut up, Jonathan. It's very agreeable for a middle-aged woman like me to have a good-looking young man pay her a nice compliment like that."

He gave her a fond look. "You'll always be twenty to me."

Deshayes shot an amused glance at his employer. _"Tiens, on m'avait dit que les Américains ne savaient pas être galant."_

"I never said anything of the sort, Michel," Lex returned, equally amused.

"What did he say?" Jonathan asked suspiciously.

"That no one had ever told him that American men knew how to pay compliments," Clark translated, grinning. "You've got to excuse him, he's French. He thinks no one else has any social graces. You do look lovely, Mom. Nice dress."

Somewhat to his surprise, she gave Lex a kind of humorous version of the evil eye, before thanking Clark.

"Am I missing something here?" he asked, intrigued.

"Only that he absolutely predicted what my new dress - this dress - would look like as soon as I got off the plane," she said, mildly huffily.

She was, indeed, wearing a smartly cut, straight dress in lavender linen with a voile overdress printed with tiny cream flowers.

"So?" Clark said, mystified. "Okay, maybe it's a bit odd to you, but it's kind of part of his social skills. I don't understand half of them yet, and I've been living with him for years."

She gave a faintly aggrieved sniff. "He insisted on taking me shopping."

Lex was prudently keeping quiet, though the amusement was beginning to show.

Clark began to get a clue. "Ah. Well - you do like whatever you got, right?"

"Well, yes, it's gorgeous, but…"

"Mom - this is Lex. You'll just have to get used to him. He's really not like other folk," Clark said indulgently. "That's what you get with an IQ in the 200s. Sometimes it shows up in surprising ways."

"Can we get going?" Lex put in, with an air of infinite patience, as if he hadn't been the one holding them all up, and made shooing gestures towards the door.

"I did not follow all that," his assistant murmured in French as they left the flat.

Lex laughed softly. "Don't even try. My relations with his parents are… a little particular."

"They do not approve of you?"

"I met their son when he was fifteen. It took them a while to get used to that, and there's still the odd point of discord between us."

"Lex…"

Clark's voice drifted back up the stairs to them, and Lex smiled faintly, with a little quirk of his eyebrows that indicated that the subject was closed for the time being. The Frenchman had work to do, and Lex, Clark and his parents - _my in-laws_ , Lex thought with a faintly incredulous feeling - were going out to dinner.

**End Chapter Eighteen**


	19. The Oak and the Cypress (19/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 19 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 3613  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

July, 2010

When the radio ran its lunchtime headlines, Martha nearly sliced her thumb off with her knife. She ran to the back door.

"Jonathan! JONATHAN!"

He came running. "Martha?"

She pointed into the kitchen, to the radio, with a slightly shaking hand, eyes wide. "Listen!"

_"The elections for governor of Kansas,"_ the radio announcer was saying smoothly, _"took a surprise turn today when the Tomorrow Party announced their replacement candidate for Senator James Steane, who was forced to withdraw from the campaign two weeks ago after a stroke. After an emergency party rally that concluded yesterday, the party executive has announced that the new candidate will not be Senator Steane's running partner, Mr. Theo Franciscus, as might have been expected, but Metropolis-based businessman Alexander 'Lex' Luthor. Mr. Franciscus remains the Tomorrow Party's candidate for lieutenant governor._

_"CEO of Lex Chemicals International, and son of business tycoon Lionel Luthor, CEO of LuthorCorp, 30-year-old Lex Luthor has been a well-known figure in the state for some years now, though his image has altered radically during that time. Initially seen as one the most socially visible of Metropolis' 'gilded youth', Lex Luthor shot to prominence six years ago when a court battle between father and son resulted in the triumph of the younger Luthor, and the extraction from the LuthorCorp empire of all its chemical research facilities into a completely separate organization, which quickly established itself on the cutting edge of that field. Since then, LCI has made several major breakthroughs in medical and scientific fields, and Lex Luthor himself is now well established as both one of the world's foremost scientific minds and a highly successful billionaire businessman in his own right._

_"The new candidate's first appearance of his electoral campaign will be in Smallville this Friday morning. Political commentators suggest that Smallville represents in some way Lex Luthor's proving ground, the arena in which he made the transition from playboy to fully-fledged businessman._

_"The other gubernatorial candidates have yet to…."_

The Kents had tuned out, and were staring at each other in astonishment.

"Lex as governor?" Jonathan breathed.

"What's Clark going to say?" was Martha's initial reaction.

"You think he doesn't know?"

"I'm sure he doesn't. He would never have left for the Himalayas, knowing he won't be back until next spring, if he'd had any notion that Lex meant to go through with something like this! Now he's not likely to find out until it's all over…."

Jonathan began to look thunderous. "You think he wanted Clark out the way? No awkward questions about 'the boyfriend'?"

"No, I don't think that at all," Martha said firmly. "Lex has taken Clark to several very public functions over the last few years. He's discreet about it, but not ashamed."

Jonathan had the good grace to look sheepish. "You're right, I'd forgotten about those galas and things. Okay, but still - why?"

"I guess we'll just have to ask him." She got her determined look. "You're going to the rally on Friday. Ask him over for lunch."

Jonathan gave her a fond, if amused, look. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

At the meeting on Friday, Jonathan had to admit it - the boy was good. Very, very good.

He was playing a special card here in Smallville, of course. Not quite hometown boy, but rather a kind of grateful adoptive son. He was implying that Smallville had made him an adult, that he had learned about the needs and aspirations of the people of Kansas right here. It was a strong speech, and it was working. Amidst the rhetoric there were even some good ideas.

What Lex was not doing - unlike his two principal opponents - was sugarcoating the pill. His speech did not repeat the usual platitudes about improving employment and reducing crime; instead, he was categoric about the need to heal the divisions within the state, to bridge the gap between east and west that kept the legislature deadlocked on so many issues. If that could be done, he said, Kansas would be able not just to move, but to leap forward into a prosperous future, and as an independent candidate, free of the burden of historical party politics, he was the right person to see that happen. Furthermore, he said, if he could persuade the people of the state to vote for him, then he could make the legislature follow suit.

"There are some 3,000 people in this town - some of whom are right here - that I once persuaded to take the gamble of their lives. They - you - trusted me, and I did not fail you." He had not. The fertilizer plant was turning out a profit regularly by now, and its employee-owner shareholders were enjoying the benefits. "I'm hoping you'll believe that I can do the same thing for the whole state."

It went down well.

Then it was time for questions. Lex met and answered them in a straightforward fashion, though Jonathan wondered why the press was holding back on his private life. Then he heard a couple of female voices from a few paces behind him.

"Look, Smallville, if you're going to blow this…"

"Don't get uppity with me, Lane. In case you didn't get it, I'm the one in charge here. If you'd done your homework properly," - and Jonathan winced at the decidedly sarcastic tone - "you'd know that I've known Lex since he was 21. What's more, his S.O. is one of my best friends. He will answer questions from me that he'd blow off from anybody else, including you, Ms. Hotshot, so just put that in your pipe and smoke it, Lois. And shut the fuck up."

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/00009zgk/)

 

Jonathan discreetly took a few steps back and to the side, so that the blonde woman came into view. Alongside her was an equally petite brunette, a few years older, perhaps, with a somewhat hard-bitten edge to her good looks, and a rather fierce expression. The little blonde, in the meanwhile, had her hand stuck up in the air, and Lex's publicist picked her out.

"Chloe Sullivan, Daily Planet," she introduced herself, as was customary.

Lex's friendly-yet-aloof expression warmed a little as his clear gaze focused on her with visible interest.

"Daily Planet? Congratulations, Chloe, you're moving up in the world."

She grinned. It was already a coup that he had been willing to acknowledge the personal connection. "We both like to set the bar high, right, Lex?" she returned cheekily, though she was blushing a little with pleasure at Lex's compliment. "Speaking of bars," she added, "where's Clark?"

Lex rolled his eyes theatrically. "Any more atrocious puns, and I will have you… excluded." Everyone heard him deliberately choose another word than 'barred.' "You know where he is as well as I do."

"You're not denying you have a male domestic partner, Lex. Yet you're taking no stance on gay and lesbian issues."

His head went up a little. "They're not a priority for me," he stated flatly. "Yes, I'm gay, and I have a male life partner. I've done my bit for the time being where gay and lesbian issues are concerned. Some years ago, I was instrumental in getting the Kansas sodomy laws repealed, as any of you can confirm if you do a little asking around. With that done, all the usual anti-discriminatory laws are now in force. I will defend to the hilt such cases, but I have no wish to parade my private life for a cause that I believe is better served in more traditional courts in any case. I don't desire to be a figurehead for any gay and lesbian movement. When push comes to shove, I'm more concerned that everyone - everyone - should be able to get a decent job, social services and municipal support. These things are more important than just any endorsement of a lifestyle. Let me add that having actually done, personally, the whole wild clubbing, promiscuous sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll thing, I do not endorse it anymore. I'm profoundly grateful to have come out the other end alive and in good health. As far as my private life is concerned, I more or less did the usual thing any young man does - sowed my wild oats, grew up, fell in love and settled down. Clark has been my friend and my partner for years, and I sincerely hope he'll be both for many more. While, obviously, I'm sympathetic to the whole gay issue, there are other matters of considerably greater importance to the people of this state."

That brought a small round of applause.

Chloe's hand stuck up again, and she had an impish expression on her face. Lex looked at her with a wry expression.

"Yes, Chloe?"

"Okay - Clark's on an anthropological expedition in Nepal."

"Yes, he is," he agreed warily.

"So he doesn't actually know, right now, that you're running for governor."

"Probably not. I haven't had a chance to talk to him in quite some time."

"And - lose or win - he's probably not gonna find out now 'til he gets back to the States some time early next year, right?"

"Ye-es?"

The townspeople were starting to enjoy this.

"So, how do you think he's going to react when he gets back?" Chloe asked innocently.

Lex's smile lit up his eyes - a rare sight.

"TMI for you, Chloe," he returned, visibly teasing.

The blonde cackled. "He's going to have your hide, Lex!"

Lex grinned widely. "Probably. But make-up sex is so much fun!"

The assembly gasped, and then most of it burst out laughing. There were a few who were completely scandalized and stalked out, but most, like Jonathan himself, were caught between amusement and indignation, with amusement winning the upper hand. Lex had not attempted any kind of equivocation, while not endorsing wholeheartedly a minority lifestyle with which most present would have felt uncomfortable. On the contrary, with a few well-chosen phrases, he had assimilated his relationship with his male lover into the domain of the ordinary, complete with the concepts of long-term commitment, fidelity and domestic disputes ending in hot make-up sessions in bed. There was hardly a person present who couldn't equate with that.

Jonathan felt a touch at his elbow, and turned to find Lex's French aide at his side. Deshayes smiled, and silently made an indication for Jonathan to come aside a little.

"Hello, Michel," Jonathan acknowledged, when they were a little apart from the crowd.

"Mr. Kent," the younger man smiled, and shook hands with him. "It is good to see you here. M. Lex spotted you early on. He asks if you and Mrs. Kent would care to lunch with him."

"Ah - actually, Martha would like to have him over for lunch," Jonathan countered.

The Frenchman looked a little hesitant. "Under other circumstances, there would be no problem, but…"

"But what?"

"Are you sure you wish to do it that way round?"

Jonathan frowned. "What - you mean, us inviting Lex rather than him inviting us?"

"Yes."

"I don't get the difference. It's hardly the first time."

"This is politics, Mr. Kent. Every gesture has a significance."

"Explain it to me," the farmer said dryly.

Michel grinned fleetingly. "As you wish. He is living with your son…"

"More like my son is living with Lex - except he's in Nepal right now, so that's a moot point."

"It is also well known that you and M. Lex have not always been on the best of terms. Partly because of Clark."

Jonathan nodded, acknowledging that.

"Then for him to invite you is simply to - well, indicate a wish to be on better terms with you."

"We're not on bad terms as it is."

"Yes, I know, as does he. The difference is, if you invite him - under present circumstances - it can only look like an endorsement. Understand me, Mr. Kent," he went on quickly, "we do not ask how you will cast your vote. However, that is not how the public will perceive it. Let him invite you - you retain your independence…"

Jonathan sighed. "Look, son, you tell Lex Martha's expecting him for lunch," he said firmly. "Twelve-thirty."

Michel smiled faintly. "Yes, sir. I will inform M. Lex. You do realize the farm will be swarming with security?"

"As long as they keep their big feet out of our crops and don't scare the livestock, I don't mind. Ask Lex; he knows what's what around here."  
Michel nodded, smiling, and disappeared. Jonathan, still amused, left for home.

* * *

At 12:28, two limousines pulled up in the Kents' front yard. Lex, immaculate in his dark suit, stepped out of the first, with Michel on his heels, and two security men, while another four came from the other car. The security men immediately fanned out, surrounding the house, while Lex came up to the porch.

"We passed on the message about not scaring the livestock and trampling the produce," he said as he approached the stoop. He leaned in to kiss Martha's cheek, as usual. "Hello, Martha. Thank you for the invitation."

She was looking around at the burly figures. "What are all these men going to do for lunch?" she asked.

"Don't invite them in, it would just embarrass them to refuse," Lex recommended dryly. "They're on duty."

"It's not good to skip meals. You know I can have sandwiches and coffee made up in no time!"

He laughed quietly. "You're a real good Samaritan. Okay, but only two at a time, so that the others can keep watch." He signed back at his aide, still talking to Martha. "Sort things out with Michel, he'll coordinate everything."

"He's having lunch with us," she said firmly. "Poor boy, always running around after you!"

"I pay him an outrageous salary to do exactly that," Lex protested, laughing.

"That's no reason not to get a decent meal!"

"She thinks I'm not feeding you," Lex commented to his aide, as Michel came up the stoop. "You're invited to lunch too. First I need you to go around the guys and work out lunch shifts. Martha's willing to provide sandwiches and coffee."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, Mrs. Kent."

Ten minutes later, a schedule had been worked out to everyone's satisfaction, and the Kents, Lex and Michel were all installed in the farmhouse kitchen. Martha was finishing the last round of sandwiches, while the men were seated at the kitchen table.

"You fielded Chloe's questions nicely," Jonathan remarked.

"I felt I owed her something." Lex smiled faintly. "I hadn't heard she'd moved up to the Planet. " He looked at his aide. "Who was the other woman with her?"

Jonathan answered. "Lois Lane."

"No kidding! She let Chloe ask all the questions? I've heard that Lane's a bit of a pitbull," Lex remarked, amazed.

Jonathan chuckled. "She didn't have much choice. Chloe kind of rammed her prior acquaintance with both you and Clark right down her throat."

"Still managing to be civil about it," Lex smiled.

"Telling you Clark would have your hide was civil?"

Lex gave him a rueful look. "Well, he will. I just hope I'm right about the other part of it."

"Lex, Clark doesn't know, does he?" Martha said from the stove.

"No, of course he doesn't. You think I could have pried him away from me if he had?"

"Then, why?"

"It was the right time. Clark - Clark needs to be able to find his own way; I don't want him to find a path in my shadow. Also, I wasn't sure I was ready - and then I was. I can't explain that. Certain things have come to fruition, others need a little longer. It's quite complex, but…. Did Clark ever tell you I said to him I could envisage running for President one day?"

"Yes, when Pete put him up for class president. He mentioned that."

"Well - I've started."

There was a pin-drop silence from the older couple.

"You're really not joking, are you?" Martha said, after a minute.

"Not at all," he said calmly. "Two terms as governor, back to business long enough for them to miss me, and then straight for the White House. If I can pull off the one, I can do the other."

"Holy Hannah! President!"

Lex looked at the farmer wryly. "You think I'll do such a bad job?"

Jonathan could only blink. "I don't know. It seems so far-fetched right now. You're awfully young. Yet you're running for governor. If you meant what you said today - I could imagine supporting you. You make a lot of sense. Where does that leave your other projects, though?"

"Going ahead. I've declared all my commercial interests already, that won't change."

"Surely you can't continue to run your companies while in office?"

"Mmh - no, not exactly. I've come to an arrangement. I remain the owner - hence the declaration of interests. It has to be clear where the source of my revenue lies. I'm delegating executive power to five of the subsidiary CEOs; they should be able to manage things competently, or they wouldn't be working for me at that level in the first place. Also, I've instructed that once current contracts have been completed, no LCI company is to tender for any American government contracts - at federal or state level - during my term in office."

"That's… pretty radical," Jonathan said doubtfully.

Lex smirked a little. "Possibly. I'm sure we can find enough to keep ourselves busy without that work. Besides, I expect the regulations may be amended slightly over the next couple of years. Certain people are going to find it very difficult to continue work without assistance from LCI in some form or other."

"I might have known you had your bases covered," he said dryly.

"You might indeed," Lex agreed blithely. "As for the car project, it should have been launched towards the end of this year, except I sort of promised your son not to until he got back," he said ruefully. "He can be a little over-protective."

"What's he going to do, if you're going into office?"

"Maybe take my place?" the aide suggested quietly.

"Clark? No, that's not his thing," Lex rejected promptly. In the silence that followed, he looked around a little defensively. "What? It's not, he'd hate it. Look, I'd love to have him right by me all the time, but he's just not a political animal. Not like that. I am heading for the White House."

"But if he's not a political animal, as you say, and - and you seriously expect to be President as, to all intents and purposes, a married gay man, with Clark as your partner…" Martha floundered a little.

"You don't understand. He can function as my partner, that's not a problem. He'll be able to live with that. He can't campaign, though," Lex stressed. "He can't…. Oh, he's the kind that fetches kittens down from trees, Martha. Yes, the public would adore him, but I can't let them think he fixes my agenda, because he doesn't. Let's face it, he's politically naïve, and likely to remain that way, because that's just how he is. It has nothing to do with intelligence and everything to do with his sense of right and wrong. I've made him accept compromises before, and he's never been happy about it. He does not, and will not, see the bigger picture. That's why I want to make it to governor without Clark at my side. I'm the politician in this outfit. He's a tremendous asset in some ways, but he could be an equally tremendous liability in others. He couldn't do Michel's job; he doesn't understand these things the way Michel does."

Deshayes nodded. "For example, if Lex wins the governorship, I lose my job," he said simply. "Clark would not understand why."

"Lose your job?" Martha exclaimed. "That's just not fair."

"That's exactly what Clark's reaction would be," Lex said, and eyed Martha sardonically. "Don't look at me like that, I have no intention of firing Michel. I never waste valuable resources, and I've got big plans for him. However, he can't remain as my personal assistant. If I'm going to be governor, I'll need an American assistant, not a French one, no matter how competent. Neither the press nor the general population would stand for a foreigner in that kind of post. That sort of distinction, at different levels, in different ways, is going to persist throughout my life. I have no wish to give Clark up, and I will not, in fact. If the presidency really depended on that, then Clark would win; being President's not that important to me, though I think I could make a difference. However, I'm prepared to make some sacrifices, within reason, and those are things Clark will always have problems with. He does have kind of a black and white view of life. Anyway, he needs to - well, get a life that isn't labeled 'governor's boyfriend'. Exist as an individual independently of me."

"That's why you encouraged him to take the expedition," Martha said, light dawning. "I always wondered why you were willing to be apart from him that long."

"I wasn't, particularly," Lex acknowledged wryly. "He needs to find his own feet, though. A year away from me - and away from my circle - should do that for him. I am an influence on him, one way or another; I thought it best to remove that for a while."

"You're taking a bit of a gamble. He could return somebody completely different."

"I'm always taking a gamble," he shrugged, though she could see he wasn't as nonchalant as he pretended. Then he smiled a little. "I think it's going to be okay. This is Clark we're talking about."

 

**End Chapter Nineteen**


	20. The Oak and the Cypress (20/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 20 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 8010  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

April, 2011

Alerted by raised voices at the reception desk, Jay darted out of his office to see what was going on. The receptionist was looking flustered, while at the desk a young giant seemed to loom over her, clearly more than a little angry. Security was moving in, but Jay had a feeling he knew who the irate visitor was. He slipped in front of the security guards to come behind the desk.

"Is there a problem, Elaine?"

"Oh, Mr. Cornell - this young man is insisting…"

"On seeing Lex right now," the young man in question said firmly, his head coming up to let him glare at Jay.

Jay recognized the handsome face and vivid blue eyes immediately, and signaled to security to stand down.

"It's all right. Elaine, you haven't checked the governor's priority list: this is Clark Kent, he's cleared for access at all times."

The young giant, somewhat to Jay's surprise, suddenly calmed down. "Um, I may not have introduced myself properly," he admitted ruefully.

Jay suppressed a smile. "Oh, well, that's okay. Come with me, I'll take you to the governor." As Clark passed the reception desk, Jay held out his hand. "I'm Jay Cornell, Mr. Luthor's assistant."

Clark shook it firmly, but with a slight frown. "What happened to Michel?"

"Oh, he's still working for Mr. Luthor, but he got married - you knew he had a steady girlfriend?"

"Angélique," Clark nodded.

"Right. Well, they decided to try for a family, so Michel took a settled job at home. He's running LCI France from Lyon."

"Okay. Um, how do you know who I am, then?"

"Photographs," Jay smiled. "Mr. Luthor keeps a couple around here and there. Though I don't think he was expecting you back quite yet."

"No, I… got an earlier set of connections," he replied evasively. There was a steely glint appearing in his eyes again. "Can I give you a word of advice? I think Lex and I have a few things to say to each other. I'd stay out the way for a bit. Keep others away, too."

Jay gave him a wary look. "Mr. Kent…"

"Clark."

"Clark - this _is_ the governor we're talking about…"

"Maybe to you he is," Clark said dryly. "To me, he's still just Lex."

Jay decided not to add fuel to the fire, and just led Clark to Lex's office. He knew the governor was alone, and had no scheduled meetings that morning. From the looks of it, it was probably just as well. He would get Elaine to route all calls through to him for a while. He knocked at the door and opened it.

"Sir?"

He didn't need to say any more. Lex had looked up and immediately seen the tall young man behind his assistant. An odd light glinted in the silver-blue eyes. Jay always found his employer enigmatic, and at this moment, even more so than usual. Clark pushed past him gently, and Lex nodded to his aide.

"Thank you, Jay, that'll be all," he said calmly.

Jay closed the door carefully behind him and headed back to his own office. Lex would page him when he was needed.

In the office, there was silence as the two young men studied each other.

"Governor of Kansas?" Clark bit out finally.

"Hello, Clark, nice to see you, too."

"Don't start with me, Lex. What the hell were you thinking?"

"That it was time to start the climb to the White House," he replied.

"Without letting me in on it? I don't expect to be consulted on how you run your business, we both know that's not my thing, but neither do I expect to be left completely in the dark when you take life-altering decisions like running for office! What," he asked bitterly, "was the farmboy going to be too much of an embarrassment during the electoral campaign?"

"No, Clark," Lex said instantly, paling, "that's not it at all…"

"It sure as hell looks like it! This has to have been in the pipeline for at least a year, probably more, and you've never breathed a word of it to me, even when we were both back home and living together, before I went to India for the pre-expedition induction course."

"Normally, you'd be right about the timing, but this came up very suddenly. By the time I'd decided, you were unreachable."

"Lex, you could reach God Himself if you put your mind to it! If you wanted me out of the way that badly…"

"I did not want you out of the way! I wanted you to be independent, and I wanted to get myself back on track. What I didn't want was for you to have to find yourself, professionally and personally, with this - this placard saying 'The Governor's Boyfriend' hung around your neck like a huge fucking albatross! I have never, in all the months of campaigning, nor since the election, pretended for one second that you weren't a part of my life, and an important one."

"Which you show by excluding me totally from something you obviously consider to be vital to you!"

"You've always known my ambitions, Clark. Always!"

"You weren't…" He stopped dead at the sudden blaze of anger in Lex's eyes.

"Serious?" the older man said, his tone dangerous. "You should know better than that. The only thing that's changed with me is the means I'm prepared to use to get to where I want. What did you think I was planning on doing with my life, Clark? Play the Nutty Professor? Run charities? I told you I have a destiny, and I intend to fulfill it."

"Nice to know just how I figure in your plans," Clark said bitterly.

"You've been at the center of my plans for the best part of ten years!"

"Then how come I find out about those plans six months late and from the newspapers? Not even a telegram? 'Running for Governor. See you in Topeka.'?"

"Just what would you have done about it? Come home? That's precisely what I wanted to avoid, taking you away from something that was important to you. I have been trying very hard over these years to help you define who you are. I'd have expected a little more understanding from you when I try to do the same thing for myself."

"You didn't let me, did you? If I'd been here, you'd have had all the support from me you could have wanted."

"I'm not talking about public support. This was something I had to do - to win - for myself. You told me once I had to let you fight your own battles, and I said that cut both ways…"

"I never expected one of them to be with you!" he cried. "I thought you trusted me. Instead you sideline me at one of the most important points in your career."

"There's no one - no one - I trust more than you," Lex breathed.

"You have a pretty damn funny way of showing it!" Clark shouted, and was gone, slamming the door with a reverberating thump that seemed to shake the building to its foundations.

For a moment, Lex just sat staring at the door, eyes burning silver in his very white face, and then he dropped his head into his hands, as if it simply weighed too much for his neck.

There was a timid tap on the door a few minutes later, and he looked up. "Come in."

Jay stuck his head around the door. "Sir…? Is everything okay?"

"It could have gone better," he said tonelessly. He beckoned his aide in, but reached for his phone with his other hand, and punched out a number from memory.

"Martha? It's Lex. Clark's back…. I don't know exactly, he must have come straight here…. Yes…. Let's say - I underestimated, seriously. I imagine he's on his way to you right now…. Not long. You might have a better idea than I do…. Yes, very…. Oh - I let myself get defensive. Stupid of me…. I don't know. I really don't, right now. I haven't seen him that upset in a very long time. I don't know if - if it's just that I didn't tell him, or if it's that he hates the whole idea…. No, I don't - I don't think that will do much good. Just - you've got my new cell number still? Give it to him. Anytime he wants to talk. Anytime…. Yes…. Thank you, Martha. Bye."

He hung up, and massaged the bridge of his nose gently, looking very weary. Jay had never seen his employer like this, drained of the tightly controlled energy that usually crackled within him.

"Sir? Is there anything I can do?"

"What are my engagements for the next few hours?"

"You have a meeting at 3:30 with the Trade & Industry Commission, and you're supposed to be having lunch with Mrs. Carsdale to discuss the Metropolis Charity Auction Gala in the fall."

"Call Mrs. Carsdale and make my apologies - ask her if she can re-schedule, any time we can make it. I'll have lunch in today - tell the kitchen I'd like something light, cold. I just need a little peace and quiet for a bit. Hold my calls 'til I tell you."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Warned by Lex's call, Martha was not surprised when Clark appeared at the door some ten minutes later. He hadn't, she figured, gone at full speed, probably being careful to avoid detection en route. He had a splendid tan from his months in Nepal, but under it he looked pale, and almost scared. She just held her arms out to him, and he hugged her tightly, with his unique brand of gentle ferocity, burying his face against her shoulder. She stroked his dark head gently. He would always be her little boy.

"He called you," Clark said, his voice muffled.

"Yes," she acknowledged simply.

"What did he say?"

"Not a lot. That you were home, that you'd had a fight, and that I should expect you soon. That he'd underestimated how angry you'd be."

There was an angry little laugh from around her clavicle. "That's Lex. Efficient as usual."

"I've never heard him that upset," she corrected him softly.

Clark's head came up sharply, and there were tears in his eyes. "What?"

"I don't think he was actually crying, but he was very close to it. I can tell, even with someone as controlled as Lex. What did you say to each other, honey?"

"I - I was angry. I am angry with him, Mom. If he wanted me out of the way while he campaigned, he might have had the decency to tell me. Why couldn't he have trusted me?"

"He's not ashamed of you, Clark."

"He said something about me being independent, but… damn it, I didn't need to be sidelined, kept out of the picture like this."

"Clark…." She detached herself gently and went into the living room to fetch a photograph album. "I made this up during the campaign - Chloe helped with some of the more obscure items. I thought you might want to see it. There's not a person in Kansas who doesn't know your name right now and what you are to Lex Luthor. It's not about you knowing who you are, it's about everyone else knowing, and the way that they know."

The album was full of press clippings regarding the electoral campaign, copies of Lex's speeches and interviews, as well as articles. Most of the photographs were current, taken of Lex during his tours, but several times the photograph of him touching Lex's face with unmistakable tenderness just after Mayor Towers' Inaugural Ball years earlier appeared, and twice a formal shot of him at his graduation in Siena was printed. The very first clipping was Chloe's report of the Smallville rally for the Daily Planet, complete with the full reprint of Lex's answer to her questions. He sat down at the table and began to read.

He took his time over it, reading at normal speed. It was over an hour later when he had finished. It was obvious that Lex had never for one moment hidden that he was gay, that he was in a committed relationship, nor even the identity of his lover.

"I don't get it," he said helplessly. "If he was willing to be that open about us, why couldn't I be there as well?"

His mother fastened the last lid on the preserves she was making. "Clark, people very much in public view usually have one of two sorts of companion. Someone decorative - like the girls Lex used to date - or someone whose life is pretty much focused on making her partner look good. That's particularly true for politicians and their wives. In the first case, it's a little demeaning to the subject, and in the second, it sort of makes any other kind of life hard to manage. People think that's all you're really about, just some sort of propaganda tool. Neither's really a good option for a young man who's just starting out in life."

Clark looked up sharply, eyes wide. "Is that what Lex meant? When he said he wanted me to be independent? Not have 'governor's boyfriend' slung around my neck like an albatross?"

"Lex wants you to have your own life. He has his own agenda, he says you've always known about that…"

"I didn't believe him," Clark said softly.

She gave him a surprised look. "What, that he wanted to be President?"

"Well, that he wanted to rule the world by the time he was thirty," Clark smiled weakly. "I guess he's missed that deadline. He did sort of imply he'd put things on hold for me."

"I certainly believe he's really going to try for the White House one day. He was here after that rally in town back in July, and talked about it. If that other thing, the gasoline business, comes through - and he said he was ready, he was only holding off because you'd asked him to wait 'til you got back - if that works, he's going to be unbelievably influential. The man who broke the oil cartels. Even if he never does get into the White House, he'll be remembered for that at the very least. Heavens only knows what kind of impact that's going to have, not just on the business community, but on the whole world economy. I don't know why you wouldn't believe him."

"Probably because we always talked about it like it was a joke."

"He may have thought you weren't ready to face the full implications. He might be right, Clark. That's something you need to consider carefully."

Clark nodded silently, mind still in a whirl. "Mom, have I been living in some kind of fool's paradise these last few years?" he asked painfully.

She looked at him sympathetically. "If you're asking me whether Lex still loves you or not, you'd know that better than I do. I really don't think anything's changed there. But - well, most people eventually realize that their student years are a little special. It's not really a - a 'normal' life, whatever that may be, not for anyone. Lex didn't do anything to make it more so, either: he temporarily moved his base of operation to Europe so that he could spend more time with you, even though his real base is here. He may have companies all over the globe, but his home's in Metropolis. You said he'd implied he'd put things on hold for you? I think that's probably true. Maybe you should be asking yourself whether Lex thinks you still love him."

Clark rubbed at his eyes tiredly and got up. "I - I need to think a bit, Mom. I'll be… around."

"Honey?" She stopped him as he was about to go out the door. "Something that's an old saying, but no less true for that. If you value your relationship, never let the sun go down on an argument. You don't have to sort it all out completely, but you shouldn't go to bed angry or upset with each other. Especially not apart, not if it's not necessary." She held out a card to him. "Lex has a new cell number."

He took the card from her silently, his expression plaintive and vulnerable, and then was gone.

* * *

Clark spent hours wandering in the fields, and then settled on the platform of the wind-vane in Chandler's Field, staring out over the distance, his gaze fixed on the towers and spires of Metropolis, miles away. It was dark when he stirred finally, and reached in his pocket for his cell and the card his mother had given him. His hands were trembling slightly when he dialed in the number.

There was barely one ring before it was answered.

_"Clark."_ He had never heard such a tone in Lex's voice before, almost - afraid.

"Lex," he said longingly, his voice curling around the simple syllable with all the heat he felt for the man in it. "I'm sorry…"

_"No, no, I misjudged. You're right, I should have found a way to let you know, at least…."_

"And I over-reacted. You… I just… I thought…. Lex, I was kind of used to the rich guy," he said, on a faint laugh that was almost more a sob, "but governor? Maybe President? I just… I felt you were - moving on."

_"I am. Not away from you, though."_

"I've never… I don't think I've ever understood what you see in me…"

Lex made a frustrated sound. _"Likewise, dummy!"_ he retorted sharply. _"I thought we got over those arguments years ago."_

"You're governor, for God's sake! I'm just - I don't really know what I am, yet. I mean, I'm nobody in particular. Mom kept this scrapbook, everything about your campaign, all the quotes and speeches and interviews. You talked about me. Not without being asked first, but then, like - like I was part of the package. Take it or leave it."

_"That's exactly what it was. Is. I always wanted to make that completely clear."_ He laughed faintly, a curiously desperate sound. _"Oh, Clark - look, you've got to rescue me. I've been in office four months, no one's set eyes on you, they're starting to wonder if you really exist, and every function I attend, I get introduced to a dozen nubile maidens! It's getting old. Will you get yourself back here and stake your claim? Please?"_

"You want me to defend your honor?" Clark smiled involuntarily at the preposterous notion.

_"Yes! Exactly!"_

He laughed, a little shakily, but happily all the same. "Lex…"

There was an answering laugh from the other end. _"Clark. "_ A pause. _"Come home. Please? Tonight?"_

"Yeah, I can do it. You're not still in the capital, are you? It's Cedar Crest, right?"

_"No, actually. That caught me by surprise, too - we've both been out of the country for too long. There's a new Mansion…"_ He gave succinct directions. _"I'll leave word at the front gate. Uh, you might as well wait 'til after dinner, if you want. They'll want to see you…."_

"Yes, okay, Lex. I'll be there. I'm sorry."

_"Don't be sorry. Just come back to me."_

* * *

It was past ten at night when Clark reached the Governor's Mansion. There was a guardhouse at the front gate, at the end of a long drive. He could see the house, a long, low, white building across a large expanse of manicured lawn. There were a couple of men standing to either side of the gate, who gestured him towards the guard house, and inside the small booth, there was a big, scary-looking guy with a buzz cut, in a dark suit that screamed Secret Service. Clark could also see closed circuit cameras all along the perimeter fence, as well as another couple of men with dogs slowly patrolling the grounds.

"Sir?" the big agent asked oppressively.

"Uh, my name's Clark Kent. I think the governor's expecting me?" Clark felt unexpectedly small and insignificant all of a sudden.

"Can you show me some I.D., sir?"

"Sure." Clark fished in his backpack for his passport, which he still had on him, and handed it over. The agent passed it under a little scanner, which duly showed the proper watermark, and then looked through it thoroughly before handing it back to Clark with a little nod. He signaled to the side, and another man appeared, like a shadow solidifying.

"Walters, escort Mr. Kent to the house; he's expected."

The shadow - Walters - turned out to be a young man about Clark's age, he guessed, about six foot, athletic looking, short, curly, reddish-blond hair, and a more friendly demeanor than his superior. He gestured for Clark to precede him out of the guardhouse and then through a side-gate, then fell into step alongside him as they walked up the drive.

"Welcome home, Mr. Kent," Walters said cheerfully, once out of earshot of the entry. "We were wondering just when you were getting back."

"Uh, you were?"

"Oh, sure. The governor's made it clear you'd be back from your expedition some time this month." He shook his head admiringly. "I can't imagine camping out in the Himalayas for a whole year. Way cool!"

Clark smiled a little. "It had its moments."

"Is it true you were looking for the Abominable Snowman?"

Clark stopped in his tracks to stare at the agent. "For God's sake, is that what Lex has been telling everyone all this time?"

Walters grinned. "Well, not exactly, but…. Sometimes it's really hard to tell when he's kidding you or not."

"I know," Clark agreed ruefully, turning back towards the house again. "No, I wasn't looking for a Yeti. Besides, I was in the Lesser Himalayas, not the Greater."

"What's the difference?"

"About fifteen thousand feet, and a lot more people. It was an anthropological expedition, studying some of the native settlements."

"I guess that'd be tough to do if there aren't any natives around," Walters agreed humorously. He turned up a side drive, towards the left wing of the house. "We're going directly to the entrance of the governor's private apartments," he explained. "The main door's for the big function rooms, and where the guided tours start."

"They do that here, too? I remember going on one to Cedar Crest when I was in school."

"Yeah, they run 'em here, too. I've never seen Cedar Crest, only started working here three years ago."

"So it wasn't Lex who wanted a new mansion?"

"Oh, no, the previous governor needed the extra space. Mr. Luthor was given the choice, I think - he preferred it here. Here we are. Um, we do have cameras in the front rooms, just to warn you," he said, a little shyly, before knocking.

An elderly man in formal wear opened the door.

"Mr. Kent, for the governor," Walters said.

"Of course. This way, sir."

"Nice meeting you, Mr. Kent," Walters smiled.

"You, too. See you around," Clark returned the smile. "For future reference, my name's Clark."

Walters' smile broadened. "Thanks. I'm Bill. But not in front of my bosses, please!"

Clark nodded, with a faint laugh, and followed the elderly man into the apartment. They were in a rectangular lobby of medium size.

"If sir would give me his bag and coat?" he was saying.

"Uh, sure - but I'll keep the pack, if you don't mind. It's Clark, by the way."

"No, sir," the elderly man declined politely, but then unbent a little, smiling slightly. "But thank you." He indicated the various doors. "The doors to the left give access to the public rooms, which are also accessible through the main lobby of the mansion. There you will find the Green Reception Room, and the Mid Dining Room, where the governor entertains smaller official parties, and where breakfast is usually served. From those rooms, to the rear of the main block, you will the main kitchen. To the right is what Mr. Luthor calls the playroom - home theater, billiards, library - and beyond that is his private office. These doors," he indicated the double doors in front of them, "lead to the main private apartment - a reception room, lounge and dining room for private entertainment, and beyond that, the governor's personal rooms. Guest rooms for overnight visitors are in the other wing."

He advanced to the double doors and opened them, revealing a vast reception room, handsomely decorated, and then proceeded directly to the next set of doors, again double. Clark could see to his right and left the connecting doors to the rooms already described. The - butler? Clark guessed - knocked on the next set of doors.

"Yes," Clark heard Lex call.

The butler opened the door. "Mr. Kent, sir."

Clark walked in, his heart in his throat suddenly. Lex stood by the fireplace, almost poised, as if caught before flight, something nervous about him, which Clark had seen maybe only when they were just getting together, and Lex had been asking himself seriously if it was a good idea. He was wearing his usual black satin pajamas, the top unbuttoned, the fabric shimmering against his ivory skin. He looked good - fit and healthy - yet at the same time, and maybe only to Clark's experienced eyes, oddly frail, even vulnerable. There was music playing in the background - piano, something quiet and classical - and Lex extended a hand with a remote in it to switch it off, then placed the remote on the mantelpiece.

"Thank you, Rattray," Lex said. Again, maybe only Clark would have caught the faint edge to his smooth delivery.

The butler retired, closing the doors behind him, leaving the two young men together in an awkward silence. Then Lex took a small step towards him, his arms coming up hesitantly.

Clark gave a faint sob and lunged into Lex's embrace, burying his dark head in the curve of his lover's shoulder. He felt Lex's arms come around him tightly, so tightly, as if he would never let go again, and the hot breath against his ear.

The three inches' height difference bothered him abruptly, and he suddenly picked Lex up and carried him swiftly to the sofa, sitting with the older man in his lap. He buried his head again against Lex's throat. He knew Lex didn't really like to be manhandled like this, but he had made only a slight 'eep' of surprise, and then hung on. Since Clark settled again quickly, he readjusted his hold a little and just melted against Clark, his lips and his fingers in Clark's dark hair, caressing tenderly, lovingly. Then Clark did what he had been longing to do even when he had been angry at Lex that morning: he stroked the bald head gently, reveling in the satin smoothness, the erotic sensation of the soft skin and hard skull beneath his big hand. He felt Lex shiver in his embrace, not from cold, either.

"Lex," he breathed against the smooth column of his throat.

"Farmboy." The deep tones created an answering shiver in Clark. That was Lex's most private endearment. To outsiders, it sounded like a friendly jibe, but to Clark, for years now, it had sounded like love of the purest, deepest sort. Then he laughed. "Don't you think I'm a little old to be sitting in your lap like this?"

"Nope," Clark mumbled, nibbling at Lex's ear.

Lex let him, for a minute or two, then shifted determinedly so that he was straddling Clark, and wrapped his arms back around the younger man's shoulders. He touched foreheads lightly. "That's better. I don't feel quite so much like a three-year-old." He kissed Clark softly. "Welcome home. I've missed you."

"Me, too," Clark sighed. "I'm sorry, Lex…"

"Stop apologizing. It's as much my fault. I should have told you, I just didn't know how to over the radio, that was too public. It's just…. You said I couldn't have just suddenly decided to run for governor, but that's pretty well what happened, Clark. Steane fell ill, they asked me, and it just - fit. You have to understand, I've always got a few things simmering on the back burner, and I always will. I'd started on this political track even before I knew you. It was put aside for a bit, and then suddenly it was time, and the prep work was already there. I wasn't trying to exclude you, or pretend you didn't exist, but neither did I need to drag you back from halfway across the world, and you weren't exactly reachable by e-mail last July," he added dryly.

"I told you, a telegram…"

"Just when would it have actually reached you?"

"That doesn't matter. I'd have received it eventually, and coming home wouldn't have been such a shock. I was supposed to stay in Berkeley for a couple of weeks, getting my first paper ready, you know?"

Lex nodded. "That's what I thought."

"Except I picked up a copy of the Daily Planet while waiting for a connection at LAX…" Clark smiled a little. "How did you win, Lex?"

The blue-gray eyes narrowed a little. "I thought you said you'd read this scrapbook? Do you think I rigged the ballots?"

"No. You certainly could, but it wouldn't have been worth the risk," Clark said calmly. "I think you maybe did a lot of fast talking to some people."

Lex's mouth twitched. "So what's new there?"

"True. No, I meant, how did you manage it? Independents rarely get a shot, even very rich ones."

"That's about the only kind there is," Lex quirked. "I just did the same as the rest of the candidates. Told people what they wanted to hear. Better than the others did."

"How much of it are you planning on carrying out?"

"As much as I deem fit and practical. Clark, can we discuss my political intentions some other time? How was Nepal?"

Clark grinned. "You don't really want to discuss that, either."

"Well, no, but it's less contentious at the moment. Since you don't seem to want to go to bed just yet."

Clark kissed him lingeringly. "I want to be close, more than I want to have sex."

"I'm getting that," Lex smiled softly. He ran his fingers through the black hair, letting the loose curls twine around his long digits. "So - Nepal?"

Clark smiled again. "Well, I was very unpopular for a little while."

Lex opened wide eyes. "You've got to be kidding. Unpopular? You? You have the sweetest temper on earth!"

"You can say that after this morning?"

"Well, with anyone except me," he amended. "What did you do wrong?"

"I turned out to be immune to mosquitoes and other biting insects."

Lex looked at him, then white teeth suddenly bit at his lower lip, and he buried his face against Clark's shoulder. The younger man could hear the snickers of laughter.

"What's so funny?" he asked, confused.

It took Lex a moment or two to steady his voice. "I'm sorry. I just had this stupid, cartoonish image. Mosquitoes dive-bombing all that lovely skin," he stroked Clark's throat teasingly, "and then bouncing off, proboscis creased in zigzags."

He had to chuckle, too. "Yeah, something like that."

Lex stayed like that, head resting on Clark's shoulder, one hand playing with the curls at the nape of Clark's neck, the other rubbing smoothly over Clark's other shoulder.

"Where's your luggage, by the way?" he asked, a little sleepily, after a moment.

Clark gave a slight start. "Probably still on the carousel at the airport," he replied rather sheepishly.

Lex straightened up and gave him a dry look. "In Los Angeles?" Clark went from looking sheepish to positively contrite, and Lex sighed. "Have you still got your ticket?"

"Uh, yeah, should be in my pack."

Lex stood. "Go get it. I'll get your bags forwarded to Topeka and collected from the airport here, but we'll need your luggage receipts."

Clark pouted faintly - he was enjoying being quiet, with Lex warm in his arms - but Lex was already on the phone, so he gave in to the inevitable and fetched his plane ticket. Five minutes later, Rattray had come and gone with it, to pass it on to whoever was making the unenviable trip out to the airport in the early hours of the morning. Lex came back to his side, and rubbed his arm gently.

"Bed?" he suggested. "There's bound to be spare toothbrushes and all that jazz in one of the other bathrooms. Your stuff will be here in the morning."

Clark nodded. "I suppose it's getting late. When do you get up in the morning?" he asked, following Lex into the master bedroom.

"About six. I'm usually…." He stopped and grinned, taking in Clark's expression. "Yeah - an eyeful, right?"

The bed was huge. That wasn't so surprising. It was the white and gilt scrolled posts, and the suspended canopy with its Italian Baroque putti, and deep rose ruched satin drapes that had stopped Clark in his tracks.

"It's - "

"Extremely tacky," Lex agreed. "Not my decorating; I found it like this when I moved in. You know me, though, I don't really care what it looks like as long as it's comfortable and I can get a good night's sleep."

"I thought it was a tradition to redecorate, for all new incumbents?" Clark teased.

"Well, if it is, I'm breaking it. I've got other things to do with both the taxpayers' money and my own than spend it on furnishings."

"It's a bit of a change from a camp bed and mosquito nets."

Lex chuckled. "I guess."

"Why didn't you go back to Cedar Crest?"

"More room here, and there's not really much to choose when it comes to décor. Funnily enough, the public rooms are fine, it's just the bedrooms that have been given the fin-de-siècle Parisian brothel treatment." He started unbuttoning Clark's shirt, long fingers sliding inside the fabric to touch Clark's skin lightly.

"So why did your predecessor need a bigger house?" Clark asked, beginning to be distracted by Lex's touch.

"He had nine kids."

Clark froze. "You're joking!"

Genuine amusement glinted in Lex's clear eyes. "Nope. I still think that's maybe one of the reasons I got elected. They figured a gay governor was going to be cheaper on the state than one with all those kids."

Clark chuckled. "You're such a cynic."

"A realist," Lex corrected mildly, and closed his eyes with pleasure as Clark slid his hands under the satin pajama top, pressing against Lex's back, stroking the knobs and ridge of Lex's spine.

Clark laughed softly at the quiet response that got from Lex. "You're purring," he teased.

Lex smiled up at him lazily. "You're stroking me. Of course I'm purring."

Clark stroked a little more firmly, watching as Lex's eyes grew dark and heavy-lidded. He had to stop for a moment when Lex tugged the shirt off him, but then he began again, even as Lex's hands found their way beneath the waistband of his jeans. Not long now, they both knew, and Lex bent his head to lap at one rosy nipple, even as his fingers closed around Clark's rapidly filling cock.

"Think you can bear to make love in that thing?" he murmured, raising his head to nip lightly at Clark's full mouth.

"I won't be looking at it," Clark assured him. "Only at you. Only at you," he repeated, as Lex's mouth closed over his hungrily.

* * *

The sensation of waking up to a firm body pressed close to his was one Lex had become unaccustomed to over the preceding months. He had just a moment's worth of panic, feeling slightly stifled, but that passed swiftly, to be replaced by the memories of this particular, large, muscular, insistent, warm body. Clark was nuzzling again, his fingers teasing Lex's nipples, and he wasn't even sure if Clark was actually awake. He rolled over in Clark's embrace and was met by a smiling, bright blue gaze.

"Morning," Clark murmured.

Lex just wrapped his arms around Clark's neck and went for a soul-stealing kiss.

This wasn't the make-up sex Lex had once joked about. It was more of a rediscovery. More like that very first step in Wayne Manor, all touches and caresses, re-learning the body map, and the sounds and looks that came with arousal and orgasm. It was slow and sweet, and climax pierced like lightning through the heavy languor of the moment, leaving them both gasping and sated. Lex sprawled bonelessly across Clark's bigger form, pleasure still tingling through him as Clark stroked his bald head with lazy contentment.

"Do we have to get up today?" Clark asked drowsily.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Are you sure?" he coaxed.

He felt Lex shake a little with laughter. "Quite sure. Somehow, I can't quite see my assistant canceling all my appointments - 'Sorry, the Governor's staying in bed with his boyfriend today.' That wouldn't go down well at all. My lieutenant governor already looks like he's sucking on lemons every time he talks to me."

"You don't get along?"

"That's one way of putting it."

"Why is he lieutenant governor, then?" Clark asked reasonably. "You must have known what he was like even before the election."

"No choice. I told you, I was kind of an emergency replacement. The party decided they couldn't win with Franciscus at the helm; on the other hand, they were afraid of alienating the existing supporters by changing the ticket completely. I had to keep him, to ensure we kept the existing votes."

"I see. He's not going to approve of me?"

"I doubt it. Especially when his wife falls for your big blue eyes," he added, with a wicked little chuckle.

"Lex! I'm not going to flirt with some woman just to suit your Machiavellian schemes," Clark said sternly.

"You're not going to have to even try. One look and the woman's a marshmallow, anyway." He propped his head up on his hands, still leaning on Clark's chest. "You are staying, right?"

Clark looked at him, surprised by the uncertainty in his voice. "Where else would I go, Lex?"

"Well - that's what I was going to ask you, anyway. What do you want to do now?"

"Work for you?" Clark suggested tentatively.

Lex sat up properly, and studied him, his expression serious. "I don't think so," he said quietly, after a moment. "I can't see it, and I don't think you can, either. Quite honestly, I don't want to be your boss. Come on, Clark, I know you haven't _not_ thought about this. What do you want to do?"

Clark chewed a little at his lower lip. "Well, I - I feel I need to be somewhere I can be of some use. I mean - in every way possible. Right now, there's one place that really needs all the help it can get…"

"You want to go into No Man's Land."

Clark nodded. "Lex, what the hell happened? How could the government just - just declare Gotham City to be no longer part of the United States? It's insane!"

"Money and politics," Lex said wryly. "It was an accumulation of things. Gotham was still recovering from the effects of the Clench plague a couple of years ago, still getting billions in aid poured into it, and then this enormous earthquake…. On top of that, some fundamentalist sect got going about it being the wrath of God visited on the new Sodom and Gomorrah. It was an insane decision, you're right, and it's going to lose a lot of people their seats at the next midterms, I think, but it still happened. If I wasn't governor, I could send you in at the head of a relief party, and fuck the consequences, I'd be armored against that. I can't, though, Clark. It would be a much more serious offense for me now than several months ago, to go against a federal declaration like that."

"Are you asking me not to?"

Lex thought about it, then shook his head. "No. No, I could weather that. Well, if you give me a little time to set things up properly, I could weather it."

"Do you really think it's going to last?"

"I don't know. There've been new developments lately. Some kid got back in past the army barricades. He's now lost inside, and his father's managed to attract a lot of media and political attention. Sometimes the most basic of appeals can work where reasoned action fails. Bruce did his best to prevent the decree in the first place, but his playboy image worked against him. I'd have tried to help if the whole debate hadn't happened right at the height of the electoral campaign here. I couldn't go to Washington, or even get involved particularly without risking losing everything." He smoothed a hand over his bare scalp, and sighed. "The pressure to lift the barricades and reverse the No Man's Land decree is increasing steadily. It might come yet, but it's not for tomorrow. I'd like you to wait a little, Clark. If it is reversed, or even if public opinion really gets mobilized, then there's nothing stopping me putting together a relief team for you. I like that idea better than you going off on your own. You're too exposed that way."

Clark reached up for him, to draw him close again. "I wasn't planning on rushing off again immediately, you know," he said gently. "I want - need - to spend some time with you before doing anything else."

A tension Lex hadn't even realized he was feeling seeped away from him, and he let himself be snuggled in closely.

"Actually, I maybe had another project in mind, too. I don't know if it's feasible, though. You've still got that piece of metal?"

Lex's pleasurable doze dissipated instantly. "Yes."

"Will you give it to me?"

"Of course. I'd have done so years ago, if you'd asked."

"I want to try fitting it back into its place."

"Clark - you need a controlled environment to do that kind of thing."

"So find me one. It's time I opened that thing up and saw what's what. If I can decipher 50-odd human languages in the space of a few years, I reckon I'm going to be able to do the same thing with anything I find there."

Lex gave him a narrow-eyed look. "You would decide to do this at a time when I have next to no free time of my own, and I'm watched everywhere I go!"

"You wanted to be governor," Clark replied, a little smugly.

"Smartass," Lex grumbled.

Clark suppressed a smirk. He hadn't thought it out beforehand, but it was obvious now that Lex was going to be completely devoured by curiosity, and not able to do a whole lot about it.

Lex knew what a suppressed smirk looked like. He was something of an expert at them himself. "You're going to torture me with this, aren't you?"

"Maybe just a little."

"If I'm providing facilities, I expect full reports."

"Yes, sir."

"That would sound a lot more convincing if we weren't naked in bed together," Lex sighed. "Make that naked and sticky in bed together."

Clark grinned. This was good. He was going to get a lot of mileage out of this.

Lex's alarm went off, and he reluctantly extracted himself from Clark's hold. For a moment, he stood at the side of the bed, looking down at his lover, and his faintly acid expression softened as he took in a sight that never failed to stir him. He groused something inaudible under his breath, stalking off to the bathroom. At the door, he looked back briefly.

"Up, farmboy. You've got to meet the staff."

Clark sat up in shock. "What?"

But Lex was gone.

Clark sighed. They had a long-standing arrangement not to share bathroom space, because it tended almost inevitably to lead to sex. So unless they were in a real rush - or they just wanted to have fun - each left the other to his own ablutions. That didn't, however, mean they couldn't have a conversation, Clark reminded himself. He got up, went to the door and opened it enough to talk without yelling.

"What was that about meeting the staff?"

There was a chuckle from under the shower. "You're going to be living here, right? They've all got to meet you. You have to tell a couple of folks how you like things, like Rattray, and my chef. My Chief of Security is going to want to assign you a bodyguard…"

"What? Oh, come off it, Lex!"

"No joke."

"Like I need it!"

"Tough shit."

"Lex!"

"There's no point complaining about it, Clark. If you don't let them give you one, they'll just assign one on covert surveillance, so you might as well know where the guy is at all times. He doesn't need to be breathing down your neck constantly. The more reasonable you are about it all, the more reasonable you'll find they are."

"I take it this is the voice of experience speaking," Clark huffed.

"You'd better believe it." He emerged swathed in a thick, black, toweling robe. "All yours," he gestured grandly.

"This is going to be worse than living at the castle, right?" Clark remarked, the open door serving in the other direction now.

"Well, seeing as how you never actually lived at the castle…"

"You had a really creepy bunch of servants."

"They were my dad's. That's probably why they were creepy."

"Speaking of whom," Clark got sidetracked, "how did he react?"

"To my winning the election?"

"Yeah."

There was another deep chuckle. "I wish you'd seen his face. He'd been telling me - as usual - that I was a fool, for months. Now he doesn't know whether to be mad at me for winning, or to be proud because his son's governor of the state."

"He's not trying to capitalize on the connection?"

"That would be unusually stupid of him, since we had an extremely public 'divorce' years ago."

"Yes, but that's the point - it was years ago. Did he campaign at all?"

"Republican."

"Oh - okay."

"He's still getting a lot of fun out of exploiting the idiots who imagine he might yet be a direct line to me, though. Are you about done?"

"Yeah, yeah, what's the rush?" Clark grumbled, emerging.

"We're going to the kitchen as soon as you're dressed. My cook's going to love you; you eat. Lots."

Clark studied his lover thoughtfully. "You know, for once, I agree with my mom. You're looking pretty spare."

Lex shot him a reproachful look. "Don't you start. I didn't hear any complaints last night."

Clark smiled, reaching out to snag him in close. "Your skin distracts me from counting your ribs."

Lex let himself be kissed, then pushed Clark away gently. "Your stuff's here." He pointed out the bags that had - apparently miraculously - appeared in the bedroom. "You don't need to unpack everything, Rattray will do that. Unless there's something you don't want handled by anyone else?"

"Nah, I don't think my expedition diaries are going to make any kind of spy's day," he smiled, rummaging for clean clothes and finding jeans and a white t-shirt. He was just putting the jeans on when he stopped, acutely conscious of Lex's silver gaze hot on him.

"What?"

"Clark, unless you wish me to have a singularly uncomfortable day at work, you'll do me the favor of not going commando," he said evenly.

Clark stared back at him, then smirked, and turned to look for clean boxers, too. There was a forlorn sigh behind him.

"Time was, you'd have blushed like a peony at that," Lex said wistfully.

Clark finished pulling his clothes on, then padded over to where Lex half-sat on the dresser by the door, and dropped a kiss on his bald head. "You're just going to have to work a little harder now, that's all," he said consolingly.

Lex's eyes gleamed. "Was that a challenge, Kent?" he asked silkily.

Clark's mouth went dry. "Uh-oh. I think I'm going to regret saying that," he muttered.

**End Chapter Twenty**


	21. The Oak and the Cypress (21/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 21 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 7405  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

August, 2011

It had taken two months to get to this point. Two months for Lex to locate a suitable facility and to lock it down to only his and Clark's access. Two months for Clark to work out how to ditch his 'shadow' and get the ship unseen from the Kent farm to Lex's bunker. Then, because Clark couldn't bear Lex's mournful expression every time he talked about accessing the ship without Lex being present, he waited another month until Lex could free himself for a few hours - and also ditch his shadows, although in his case, it was a little easier. All he had to do was imply that he was going a little stir-crazy, that he wanted to go on a picnic with his boyfriend, and that he had every intention of… Lex didn't specify, but still made himself quite clear. How to Thoroughly Embarrass Your Security Agent in One Easy Lesson. Masterly, as usual, where Lex was concerned. Clark was mute with admiration.

They had been driving for a little over an hour, when Clark commented, "I was kind of expecting to end up in Level Three again, you know?"

There was a slight pause from Lex. "Level Three's occupied."

Clark blinked. "What?"

"I put Hamilton back in there. Don't worry, it's completely radiation shielded." His tone was almost too calm. "You could walk right up to the door and not feel anything, as long as it stayed shut."

"You're still having the meteor rocks studied?"

"Yes. I'm not about to stop, either, Clark, and Level Three's the best located facility."

"Lex, why are you so fixated on those damned rocks!"

"Because I still want to know about them. Can't you see that? It's not just for me now, though that's a big part of it still. I want to see if there's any way to protect you, too. There's tons of the stuff scattered in minute particles all over Lowell County. It'd take a century to completely purge the area, and as long as there's any lying around, you're vulnerable. Unless Hamilton can figure out exactly how they're composed, and maybe find a way to isolate the active element so that we can try treating the rest of the stuff to make it harmless to you. I swear it's top secret, Clark, no one's getting near it except Hamilton or me."

Disconcerted, Clark ran his fingers through his black hair. "I don't suppose there's any way of talking you out of this?"

"I'd rather you didn't try."

"Why do I let you pull shit like this on me?" Clark asked plaintively.

"I've wondered that myself a few times," Lex responded, with a faint smile. "Don't worry about it, Clark, it's safe, and there's nothing there to connect you to the meteor research even if something did leak out."

"What if it does?"

"Then I'll simply say I was concerned with the environmental impact and commissioned a detailed study from Hamilton, but didn't want any premature rumors flying around to cause panic."

Clark rested his head against the window, still unsettled, and Lex let him be for a few minutes before deciding to lighten the mood.

"Of course," he said evenly, as they sped towards the bunker, "you're going to have to come back from this trip looking well-fucked, or Arthur will know we were up to something else."

Clark gave him a narrow-eyed look, but then just smiled with an air of faint superiority. "Nope, you're going to have to try harder than that."

Lex grinned wolfishly. "You know, I'm being good to you here; you could put a little in on your side. Before you make me do something outrageous in public."

"I can't help it if living on an expedition for over a year knocked a lot of the blushes out of me," Clark protested. "The gang there was worse than you for making me blush, and after a while, you just get used to some things."

"No, I think I've just lost my edge a little. I didn't have you there to practice on, after all."

"I don't know about that. You were doing nicely yesterday. What the hell was that about, Lex? You nearly took Lois' head off!"

Lex arched an eyebrow. "So it's 'Lois,' is it?"

Clark stared at him. "You can't be jealous!" He got a slant-eyed glance in return. "Oh, come on, Lex. We were just talking. She's a nice woman, smart, too. She'd even read my article." Clark's first contribution to the string of articles regarding the Nepal expedition had appeared in the latest edition of Current Anthropology.

"She was practically drooling over you," Lex said sternly. "Even Chloe was embarrassed by her, and you know how much it takes to embarrass our Ms. Sullivan!"

Clark grinned despite himself. "They're quite a pair, aren't they? If I didn't know Chloe the way I do, I think I'd be scared of them."

"I am scared of them," Lex returned dryly. "Dynamite and the Molotov Cocktail have nothing on those two."

"That's not a bad tag," Clark laughed. "I'd love to see Chloe's face."

"They'd probably argue about which is which. I don't know how they remain a successful writing team; I always thought it was opposites that made the best working partnerships. Of course, there's always the sparkage…"

"Spark…" Clark gave Lex an astonished look. "You're out of your mind! First you say Lois is drooling all over me, then you're implying she and Chloe are… involved? Sometimes you scare me, you really do. I have no idea how your brain works."

"Well, you know what they say about smoke and fire, and there's plenty of both between those two. I dare say Ms. Lane isn't above a little window-shopping," he replied urbanely.

"You're being ridiculous," Clark said firmly, and changed the subject. Lex just looked amused.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, they had arrived. Clark scanned the area for observers or interlopers, but it was clear, and he extended his vision quite some distance to be sure of that. Lex also got him to listen carefully - over the years, he had taught Clark to distinguish between various types of electronic and electrical sounds, and they periodically updated Clark's auditory "vocabulary" to help him define whatever his ears picked up. There, too, however, they appeared to be completely alone, as they had hoped. Lex quietly slipped into the narrow entranceway and down half-a-dozen steps until he came to a steel door. With a key only he and Clark possessed, he opened a small control panel and keyed in a code, then pressed his thumb to the scanner pad. The steel door slid open with a faint metallic whisper.

The narrow entrance belied the size of the actual chamber beneath, large enough for a small aircraft, like a crop-duster. More than large enough for the strangely shaped metal pod that sat in the center of the space. The entrance door slid shut and locked behind Clark, and the two young men approached it reverently.

It was only the second time Lex had really seen it, and the previous time, the Kents' storm cellar was poorly illuminated. Now, flooded with bright electric light, he squatted beside it, drawing one hand wonderingly along its smooth surface, intrigued by its design and markings. He tilted his head up to look at Clark.

"You're not affected by it, like with the meteor debris?"

"No, not at all. I feel fine."

"Does any of this look like a language or text to you?" he asked, touching the symbols lightly.

"No," Clark said. "Letters, maybe. This," he indicated a sequence of symbols, "this looks to me like it might be some kind of registration code. You know, like our own planes have?"

Lex nodded. "It's such a strange shape. Almost organic, like some kind of weird seed pod. I wonder if it was an autonomous vehicle, or something like an escape vessel?"

"A little small for that, surely? I mean - could you see fitting an adult in there? If my size and build's characteristic of my - my species, I'd be pretty uncomfortable in there now."

Lex stood, and reached up to ruffle Clark's hair gently. "Hey, enough with the alien angst, okay? You are what you are, and what you are is pretty damn special, no matter where you come from."

"You're biased," Clark smiled a little.

"Sure," Lex agreed easily. "Okay, let's have it."

Clark drew out the small box containing the octagonal metal shape. He gave Lex a pointed look which the older man met with an arrogant tilt of his head, but Clark did not back down and finally, with a roll of his eyes, Lex moved back a few paces, so that he was substantially shielded by Clark's body. Clark extracted the piece, and knelt to the left of the pointed front end of the small craft, where a clear indentation showed where the piece had to fit. He looked for matching markings, to see if there was a specific way to place it, when he became aware of something.

"Lex?"

"Yeah?"

"It's - attracted. Like a magnet."

Lex considered, then suggested, "Let it go. See if it will orient itself. There could be recognition circuitry, though I could have sworn there were no electronics in the fragment."

Clark nodded, swallowed, and opened his hand flat out. The piece in his palm quivered, then twitched, and suddenly shot off, hovering above the indentation. Clark sprang to his feet and moved back quickly, partly out of prudence, partly to shelter Lex securely. The piece twisted this way and that briefly, then smartly clicked into place.

The response was immediate. There was an unmistakable hum of power, and lights came on all along the edges of the ship. It rose about four feet into the air, and hung there, while the sharp click of mechanical objects moving sounded. The central section expanded in curved slats like a rounded cage, and bright white light beamed out from the interior, and then the ship turned and pointed unerringly at Clark.

Lex tensed. Then, quite deliberately, moved a little way to the side.

"Lex!" Clark cried, alarmed, and swiftly moved in front again. The ship turned, following him like a compass needle.

"Stay still, Clark," Lex said firmly, and again moved several feet to the side.

Clark looked anguished, but obeyed, and this time, the ship ignored Lex's movement and stayed pointing at Clark. Lex nodded to himself, and took a step closer, then another. He stopped sharply when the pitch of the ship's humming noise altered. When he took a step back, the pitch dropped again.

"Okay. It's aware of me, but not particularly interested as long as I don't get too close," he commented.

Clark felt completely out of his depth. People he could cope nicely with, but - things - like this were another matter. He felt the strangeness of it to the very depth of his being, and it frightened him. Lex, on the other hand, was as utterly focused as Clark had ever seen him, face taut, expression concentrated, eyes - hungry was the only really appropriate word for the light in the silver-blue eyes. Clark looked to him for guidance, and Lex, turning his gaze away from the ship momentarily, nodded in recognition. The hard, avid edge faded from his expression a little, which Clark found reassuring.

"Try taking a step towards it. Listen to the sounds it's making."

Clark obeyed. The ship stayed put, but its hum altered again. However, it wasn't in the same way as it had done when Lex had attempted to approach. The change was - friendlier. Again, Lex nodded to himself.

"It recognizes you as different. Try again. Another step."

Again, Clark moved a little closer, and again the ship responded audibly. One more step - this time the central cage sprang open sharply. Startled, Clark took a step back, and the ship followed.

"Wait for it," Lex advised quietly.

Heart in his mouth, Clark stood his ground. From the central space, the white light seemed to coalesce into a shining globe, and rose above it, like a miniature sun. A blue-white beam shot out from it to strike Clark square in the forehead.

Clark flinched back, and Lex, concerned, said, "Step aside."

He moved quickly out the way. The ship followed his movement, but the beam withdrew, leaving the globe still suspended. Something was subtly different, and Clark looked at Lex for help. The bald man stared at the ship, then at his lover, and shook his head.

"I'm anthropomorphizing," he muttered to himself. "I'd swear the thing is… disappointed." He smoothed a hand over his scalp. "Did you feel anything?"

"Like a cool breeze. Nothing else."

Lex chewed on his lower lip for a second, then shrugged. "Okay. Let's try that again. Move in. It's obviously got a designated range. I think it might be some sort of bio-scan. It wants to know if you're really who it thinks you are."

"You're telling me this thing has a brain?"

"AI, probably. Artificial Intelligence."

"Geez…."

Clark took a deep breath and moved forward once more. Immediately, the beam lanced out from the bright sphere again. It lingered on his forehead for a long moment, then fanned slowly down his body and back up again, spreading to encompass his whole frame as it did so.

"Clark?" Lex asked softly for reassurance.

"I don't feel anything," he said. "It does look like a scan."

The beam switched off.

And then the ship spoke.

Lex drew in a sharp breath, then scowled fiercely, looking down. "Get your brain in gear, Lex," he admonished himself firmly, in an undertone. "This is not the time to be channeling sci-fi movies!"

Clark was paralyzed with a mixture of awe and fear - and understanding.

"Clark?" Lex queried softly.

The ship spoke again.

"Kal-El," Clark said, in a low voice. "My name is Kal-El."

"You can understand?" Lex asked cautiously.

"I…. Partly. It's - it has more…"

The beam reappeared, but this time, it darted right into Clark's eyes, fanning across them like a mask. That, Lex didn't like at all.

"No!" he exclaimed, and came forward to put up a hand to block the beam.

The ship spoke sharply, and the beam changed color to a sharp red. Lex cried out as his hand was burned. Clark reacted instantly, seizing Lex and turning them both around, shielding him and breaking contact with the ship. The beam retracted completely, but while the ship remained still, the globe moved forward, coming around as if trying to get a better look at Lex. Again Clark moved to block it, again it moved. Lex put a halt to the dance.

"Wait. I think it's got the idea, but it still wants - to get to know me. To identify what you're obviously protecting. Stand aside."

"It hurt you!"

"It may have thought I was trying to hurt you, by stopping whatever it was doing. It's not too bad a burn. I imagine it could have just taken my hand off completely, if it chose. Step aside, Clark."

Reluctantly, he left Lex exposed to the globe. The beam reappeared, blue-white once more, and slowly fanned over Lex as it had over Clark, as Lex tried not to squirm. He wasn't sensing anything, but still felt curiously invaded.

When it had done, the ship spoke again.

"What's it saying?" Lex prompted.

"Something about pictures. It wants to show me pictures?"

"When it shone in your eyes, did you feel anything?"

"No - I couldn't see for a minute, then I was starting to see again, then I saw you get burned…."

"I think it's maybe trying to project directly onto your retinas," Lex said slowly. "Quickest way to communicate images, especially when, like you, you can process the images very fast, like when you flick through a book in seconds. I got in the way. So…"

He removed himself from what he was starting to think of as the 'charmed circle'. Effectively, the globe drifted back to its central position and waited for Clark to face it, which he did with a little encouragement from Lex.

The scan this time lasted a good five minutes, which Lex endured with difficulty, and when the beam cut off this time, it was all he could do not to rush up to Clark and demand answers. He waited until Clark shook his head, returning to the present place and time.

"There's stuff - about my parents, and how I got here…" He sounded desolate, and Lex drew close to take his arm in both hands, ignoring the painful burn on his right hand. "I've got to process some of it. But the ship - the ship wants to build… something; a place for me. Somewhere I can really learn properly about what I am and where I come from."

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/0000aesy/)

 

"To build?" Lex laughed faintly, ironically. "That's not going to be too easy to arrange. Somewhere it can't be found, can't be detected. And where are the materials coming from, the manpower?"

"No, that's not necessary. I have to find the place, and then take the globe, and throw it into the place. The ship will follow, and it - they - it will take care of everything. The globe - the globe's the brain."

"Can you talk back to it?"

Clark shook his head. "Not really. Some words - I think I get some words."

"You have to try to tell it that it needs to wait. We have to find the place first and it's going to be difficult. If you can, tell it also that you need something to teach you how to communicate properly. Then we need to get out of here. You need to rest, you've had a lot to take in."

Clark nodded, a little dazed still. Then he seemed to focus for a moment, and he took Lex's right wrist and moved closer to the ship. Lex hung back, uncertain.

"Clark…?"

"No, come on."

Nervously, he let the younger man draw him along. Clark held out Lex's burned hand towards the globe, and spoke, just one word. The globe seemed to 'look' at them both. Clark said the word again, and the ship spoke back, obviously questioning. Clark reached across for Lex's other hand, and held the two side by side, and reiterated the word. The ship spoke again, sounding more confident, and it took all Lex's courage not to recoil when a spidery metallic arm extended from the cockpit and poised over his burned knuckles. The beam, when it came, was white and cool, and Lex could almost feel the heat being drawn from his skin and the damaged cells regenerating. As the healing scan continued, he closed his eyes, letting his head rest against Clark's shoulder, fighting back vaguely hysterical laughter and some truly awful Star Trek joke.

He figured it was done when Clark released his wrist. He opened his eyes, and effectively, the arm from the ship had retracted, and his hand looked in perfect condition. He flexed it, then ran a curious fingertip over the healed surface - no pain, no tightness, no sign of what had just happened. He swallowed, aware that he was sweating lightly from sheer anxiety, and moved away.

Clark, meanwhile, was facing the globe again, and trying to find the right words. He got something right, evidently, because the - or an - arm emerged from the ship and dropped something about the size of a paperback and the thickness of a pocket calculator in his hands. He turned and offered it to Lex, who took it curiously. He was guessing it was the educational tool for which he had suggested Clark should ask. He was absorbed in its symbols for the next few minutes, only vaguely aware of Clark and the ship attempting to communicate. It was the sound of the ship shutting down that drew his attention once more.

There it lay, dormant once more, Clark looking down at it with a strange, unreadable expression on his face.

"Clark?" he queried softly, coming up to his lover and putting a hand against the small of his back.

Clark looked around swiftly, and smiled a little. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"Not sure if I'm quite sane," he said honestly. "But I've been there before."

Clark half-laughed. "Lucky you. I haven't. This is - "

"Far out?" Lex supplied, a little teasingly.

"Yeah. Um - let's go?"

"What about the key? Are you going to leave it with the ship?"

Clark thought about it. "I think so. If - if anyone found it, this way it could, you know, defend itself. Disappear."

Lex blinked at the thought. "I hope it doesn't come to that. I have an awful feeling that for a baby carriage, it could do a hell of a lot of damage to Kansas. Or who knows where else."

Clark only smiled weakly. "You get anywhere with that?" He nodded towards the pad in Lex's hands, as they shut down the power and left the bunker.

"You're the linguist. There's some stuff that might be mathematical formulae. When you start sorting out which is which, let me know, and I'll take another look. Though, I've got a vague idea…." His voice trailed off, and he shrugged. "Leave it for the time being. I'll need a completely new brain if I'm right," he added, rolling his eyes, even though Clark, a few steps ahead of him, couldn't see.

"What do we do now?" Clark asked, in a rather small voice as they both emerged from the sunken stairwell.

Lex put his head back and let himself enjoy the sun on his skin for a moment, then looked at his watch. Rather to his astonishment, the whole fantastic encounter had taken just a little less than an hour.

"We have our picnic," he said firmly. "I don't know about you, but I'm feeling kinda shocky, and food's just the thing."

Clark gave him a wondering look. "Food. Right."

"It's the mundane details that keep us grounded."

Clark didn't object any further when they got back into the car, drove a little further along the quiet country road, and found a picnic spot that suited them.

They ate quietly for the most part, not really talking about what had just happened, save when Lex, fingering the mysterious pad, said that they would need to find an ultra-secure hiding place for it. It wasn't something either of them was going to come up with then and there, but it was enough that it went on the agenda.

Lex was feeling steadier, and Clark was looking and reacting in a more normal fashion by the time they finished the ripe peaches.

"What was the movie you were channeling?" Clark asked suddenly, curious.

"What?" To Clark's amusement, Lex actually colored a little. "Oh - Stargate. Your ship sounds like Ra."

"You know," he said solemnly, "for a certified genius, billionaire businessman, and state governor, you watch way too much sci-fi."

Lex didn't miss a beat. "Turned out to be good training, though."

"Bastard," Clark grinned, and Lex laughed and reached for him, and tumbled them both to the grass.

They kissed lazily for a while, then just lay together, finding their center in each other, in a world that had suddenly taken a very strange twist. Clark stroked the bare head that fit so perfectly into his hands.

"So - you're not freaked?"

"I think you're more freaked than I am, farmboy," Lex said gently. "I won't say I'm completely okay about all this. It's turning out to be quite a bit more than I imagined. But - well, you just said it," he smiled a little, "I watch way too much sci-fi. You had to come from an advanced race; they obviously had space travel, to get you here. I've been playing with scenarios in my head for years."

"The ship said something else to me, when it told me my name," Clark said, his tone bleak. "I think - I think it called me the Last Son of Krypton."

Lex propped himself up on one elbow to look into his face. "Are you sure?"

"No, but that's what sticks with me. I remember - I was shown - a lot of people panicking."

"Did it show you a star map, in all those images?"

Clark closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. I don't know if it represents my original home, or Earth, or…"

"We'll get charts, they're not difficult to get from NASA. See if we can match something. What else sticks out from those images? Just now, before you try to sort through them consciously, I mean."

"Panic. Two people - I think they're maybe my birth parents. They're dressed strangely. Cold - sometimes it's not just images, but sensations, sounds, too. A lot of confusing noise. Lights. Being played with, in a funny kind of - detached - way…"

"Your trip may have taken some time. You grew up some, in the pod, perhaps, and the ship was there to give you some kind of pre-school education. It certainly did something, you were quite fit when you landed on Earth, and if you'd been confined, even for a few weeks, that wouldn't have been the case, not without careful physiotherapy."

"How do you know I was fit?"

"Well, judging from your baby pictures…"

He stopped, as Clark scowled blackly. "I'm never going to forgive Mom for showing you those."

"Oh, come on, you were adorable!" Lex grinned.

"Yeah, right!" he groused, still embarrassed, and then he got indignant. "You never held up your end of the bargain - Carrots!"

Lex just laughed down at him. "You think I'm going to now?" he taunted lightly.

Clark did the impossible, and pounced from underneath. "You will if I torture you enough!" he said gleefully.

* * *

Much later, Lex was again looking down at him, and trailed a stalk of grass under his nose, smirking.

"Mission accomplished," he declared, satisfied. "You look suitably ravished. We can go back, the alibi has been established."

Clark drew a finger down Lex's throat, with a smile that was more smug than sly. "You're the one wearing the hickeys, Mr. Governor."

Lex's Cheshire Cat look just intensified. "I can stand being visibly marked, when the cause is this gorgeous young stud right beside me."

Clark pouted. "You only love me for my body."

"And your big blue eyes, and your luscious mouth, and…"

"Stop!" Clark put a hand over his mouth. "I get the point. Geez, Lex, sometimes you make me sound like a porn star!"

Lex mumbled something against his palm, the gray-blue eyes dancing.

"What?" He removed his hand.

"I said, you'd have made a fortune. I mean," he went on breezily, "there's the looks and the buff body, and I can bear personal testimony that you sure know how to wave your wand and your as- "

"Shut up, Lex!" Clark said, his face flaming.

"Gotcha!" Lex said smugly.

* * *

October, 2011

Lean hands brushed his aside and fixed his bow tie deftly. "Nervous?"

"Petrified!" Clark said fervently. "How have I managed to avoid formal functions this long?"

"With a lot of help from me. You're forgetting the garden parties, though."

"No, they just didn't feel like this."

"Well, it's not going to be fun and games," Lex acknowledged wryly. "There are still plenty of people who think we're perverse…"

Clark snickered a little. "If only they knew! You're fucking an alien. Doesn't get much kinkier than that."

Lex gave him a reproving look. "Farmboy, you have no idea what kinky really is."

He opened wide eyes. "I'm vanilla?"

Lex shook with laughter, and leaned up. "Alien vanilla. Definitely superior," he whispered. "Back to the matter at hand - just be your usual beguiling self. I'm the one who sets folks' hackles on edge. You just charm them to pieces."

"That just means I'm the one who gets introduced to the debutantes," Clark said plaintively. "They all think I deserve better."

"I know," Lex said smugly. "A - it gets them off my back. B - the girls spend ten minutes with you and know it's a lost cause."

Clark gave him a dubious look. "Why don't they do so with you?"

"Can I help it if I exude a dangerous sexuality?" Lex said reasonably.

Clark moped. "I'm vanilla."

"No," Lex contradicted sardonically, "you deserve better. I've been trying to tell you that for years."

"Good thing I never listen to you, then, isn't it?" Clark returned promptly.

"Brat."

Despite his complaints, Clark knew perfectly well that Lex really had nothing against functions, as long as they were going his way. He had hated being paraded at his father's functions, but things were different now. Lex did not insist that Clark accompany him to official functions - on the contrary, he seemed to prefer to reserve Clark's public appearances for rare occasions - but he himself tended to enjoy them now that he was very much in control - whether as host or guest - of most of them.

The other reason that Clark wasn't expected to attend all of them was that he was still hoping to go to No Man's Land, and everyone knew that he was very busy with the preparations for a major relief mission to that beleaguered territory. In private, he had made considerable progress on the alien language of the ship. Lex had filled in big gaps with the mathematics, which had turned out to be much more important than Clark was used to, but they still had not found the secure location for the "building" - whatever it was - that the ship wanted to construct. Until they could, there wasn't too much more they could accomplish on that front. In the interim, outside of trying to crack the new language, Clark still wanted to make himself useful, and only a few days ago, the No Man's Land declaration had been partially lifted from Gotham City. It was now open to relief and private construction agencies.

Lex had promptly given Clark carte blanche to organize whatever he wanted to get in there and help with the reconstruction of the devastated city. The preparations were not yet complete, but Clark thought he might be ready to leave in another couple of weeks. Which meant that if he was going to lose himself in the ruins of Gotham City, he couldn't be playing Lex's faithful companion at every moment up to that point, it would just look wrong.

In the meantime, however, here they were, thirty minutes later, at the head and focal point of a reception line at Clark's first official reception and black-tie dinner since returning to the country. Clark had learned to control his reactions - Lex had always been master of his - but there were times he really wished he could smack a few faces, those of the people who kissed up to him while professing their distaste for what he was behind his back. He had more sympathy for those who openly disapproved.

When the line broke up, but before they went in to dinner, he found himself standing beside Bill Walters. He had asked for the young security agent as his bodyguard when Lex had presented him with the immutable necessity of having one. If Clark was going to have to have a shadow, he might as well have one whose company he enjoyed, and Bill was entertaining. He was also genuinely impartial regarding Clark's relations with Lex, and rather reminded Clark of Michel, Lex's former assistant, whom Clark had liked a lot. Bill, too, had a girlfriend and was waiting to have enough of a nest egg set aside to get married.

"Have you suffered enough?" Bill asked him, as he chose to vanish quietly against the wall for a little while.

"No, there's still dinner to come, God help me," Clark sighed. "I don't know how Lex does it."

"I guess that's why he's the governor."

"Probably."

"Are you really planning on going into Gotham City?" he asked curiously.

"Yes. You'll be free of babysitting me any day now," Clark smiled.

"Babysitting! The way you give me the run-around? As if!" Bill rolled his eyes expressively. Just because Clark liked him didn't mean he didn't try to give him the slip regularly.

"Well, anyway, you'll be rid of me fairly soon, at least for a few months."

"That's rough territory, Clark."

"I know, but I can't sit on my ass writing articles here. I need to get out into the field."

"I thought your field was jungles and remote mountain tribes and all that stuff?"

"Anthropology is the study of man. If I felt like it, I could do a hell of a study right here and now. Except no one would publish it, it'd be too offensive to some of our good, upstanding citizens," he smiled slyly. "My point is, it doesn't always have to be about extinct or rare, indigenous civilizations."

"I don't know that there's much 'civilized' about Gotham City right now," Bill remarked. "Not from what I've been hearing."

Clark nodded soberly. "I know. I don't really want to study what's going on in there right now, I just want to help. But afterwards - there may be lessons to be learned." He suddenly straightened, on alert, eyes going wide. "Speaking of Gotham…! Excuse me, Bill."

He made his way across the reception room to the doors, where a tall figure had just appeared.

"Bruce?"

"Hello, Clark." The Gotham billionaire shook his hand.

Clark took in his appearance - the man was visibly tired, and looked a good ten years older than his actual age. "You look exhausted," he said bluntly. "We were expecting Lucius Fox - what brings you instead?"

"I need to talk to Lex directly," he said quietly.

"Tonight?"

"Preferably. I'd like to get back as soon as possible."

"Leave it to me." If it was not very important, Bruce would not have turned up unexpectedly like this.

Clark rarely used his privileged status as Lex's partner to influence his lover, and certainly not in public, but it was precisely because he did not abuse that power that he could exercise it when necessary. That did not stop several people from looking very sour as they watched the tall young man deftly extract the governor from his current conversation, and take him aside to speak privately with him. Lex's expression, as always carefully guarded, gave nothing away, but he nodded after a moment, and signaled to his aide to join them. Some instructions were given, and Lex and Clark headed out of the room.

Lex gave him a curious look. "Your ears are burning." They weren't, actually, but Lex knew Clark well enough to know when he was hearing something that embarrassed him.

Clark smiled crookedly. "Some people think we're off for a quickie," he muttered.

That just got a choked laugh from the other man. Other people's foibles amused him. His smile disappeared, though, when he took in his occasional business partner's appearance.

"Clark wasn't joking," he commented, shaking Bruce's hand, "you look like a wreck."

"Very kind of you, Lex," Bruce said dryly. "Politics seems to suit you, however."

The humor returned. "You don't know the half of it. This way, we can talk in private in my office." Once inside, he indicated the suite by the fireplace. "Something to drink?"

"Just water, thanks."

Lex poured small scotches for himself and Clark, and extracted a little bottle of water from the mini-bar for Bruce.

"I take it this has nothing to do with Kansas, but business?" he said, handing out glasses and then sitting down.

"Yes. Gotham City is going to need everything it can get to rebuild. I know you've seen the news reports, but you have no idea what it's really like. If a nuclear bomb had gone off, the damage could hardly be worse. About the only things left standing are the Wayne buildings, because we were way above spec on earthquake protection in any case. There are two things I need you to consider. I'd like - well, no, I don't want to, but I think I need to pull Wayne Enterprises out of the deal we have at the moment. I also want to go public with the new fuel.We could use the royalties."

Lex sucked in a deep breath. "The contract, that I can do. Not happy about it. We complement each other, Bruce, it was working for both of us, but I understand that you want to commit resources elsewhere just now. I wasn't, however, ready to go ahead on the release of the fuel. I kind of put that on hold when I started up with the politics. You know what that's going to do to my life? I was - am - planning on sending in my own relief team into Gotham as it is. I can increase resources there, if that would help."

"It's nothing compared to what your new fuel would bring in. Lex, you're about as well protected right now as you're ever going to be…"  
Lex shot him an incredulous look. "You've got to be kidding. This is an oil-producing country, too, in case you'd forgotten? I wouldn't put it past someone in the government to persuade the FBI I'm a menace to social order!"

"Then when is the time going to be right? I came in on this deal partly because I believe in this replacement fuel. The impact can only be for the better, eventually."

Lex made a frustrated sound. Bruce was right, and Lex had more or less promised him, back when he had made his first determined effort to shake off his father's control. He did not need to look at Clark, standing quietly in the shadows of the office, to know that he was very tense. Clark wanted very badly to work in No Man's Land, but he would not be at all happy at the thought of leaving Lex to the prospective mercies of oil cartel-funded assassins.

"It's a move I'm not prepared for," he said, and held up a hand to forestall Bruce's protest. "I didn't say I wouldn't do it, but I need to look at the probabilities and make some arrangements. I can't just turn around on it and say yes. Remember that I'm nominally no longer in direct control of LCI. As to the other part, though, you have that. We'll buy out Wayne Enterprise's interests in the plant we have, and we'll look at a licensing deal on the new equipment that's been developed by your people, which will also provide royalties. That's the most I'm prepared to agree to right now, Bruce. Give me a little time on the rest."

There was a heavy silence, then he nodded. "All right. I know it was a lot to ask. Thanks for hearing me out."

There was a knock at the door, and Clark opened it. Jay stuck his head around. "Five minutes, sir," he said to Lex.

"Thank you, Jay," Lex acknowledged him. "Are you staying for dinner, Bruce? There's a seat for you, since you took Lucius' place."

"I - "

"It would look a little strange if you didn't."

"Not for me, it wouldn't, or hadn't you noticed that I'm getting quite a reputation for eccentricity these days?"

"You're a bit stressed out. Join us. The ultra-polite mini-civil war that is Kansas politics should take your mind off Gotham for an hour or two," Lex smiled sardonically.

"You make it sound like some form of theatrical entertainment."

"Politics and show business have a lot in common."

Bruce smiled faintly. "I'll stay. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Would you give me a minute with Clark?"

Bruce left them in the dimly lit office.

"You're going to do it, aren't you?" Clark said tightly, when the door had closed on the Gotham billionaire.

"What?" Lex asked innocently, finishing his drink.

"Don't snow me! You're going to announce the fuel, and set all the plant lines into operation for commercial products."

"Probably," Lex agreed after a moment.

"I'll ask Carter to take over the relief team…"

"No. You're going to Gotham City."

"Like hell!"

"You're going to Gotham," Lex repeated, his voice steely.

"I'm not leaving you when you're about to put your neck on the line…"

"That's my choice. It's also my choice as to how my protection is assured. I'm not going to rely on you for that. You have your own way to make, and you were right, Gotham City is the place for you. A chance to really find out what you can do, and how best to do it."

"You're asking me to turn my back on you when you're at your most vulnerable!" Clark struggled to keep his voice down. "I can't do that. You know I'd do anything to keep you safe…"

"I do know that. That's precisely why you're going to go." The hurt in Clark's face struck deep at his resolve, but he held firm. "I told you before that I wanted to chain you to me, to cage you. I know I could do it; you'd let me. You'd end up hating me for it. It's the same thing now. You're bigger than all this," he gestured at the office, "all the general politics and normal day-to-day business concerns. You're - compressed here, restricted, straight-jacketed in a way that makes a mockery of everything you are or could be. Gotham will be a challenge. You'll have to make decisions about what needs to be done, how best to do it. How to balance the power you hold with the responsibilities it carries. How not to be exposed and exploited. How to keep your freedom as an individual. These are things you need to discover for yourself, and I can't help you to them, I can only hold you back."

His head went up. In the dim light from the table-lamps, his pale skin had a subtle bloom to it that made Clark want to touch him desperately, but the planes of his face were set in marble, beautiful yet untouchable, unyielding. His words burned into Clark's heart.

"I love you. So I'm doing the only right thing. Setting you free. The only reason I can do that is because I know you love me enough to come back to me. No matter how far you travel, I know you'll always come back to me. I will be here."

Clark stared at him, swallowed the threatening tears. "Promise?" he asked huskily. "Do you promise you'll be here?"

"Yes."

He believed. Lex would stay alive, because Clark needed him to do so. Lex never made promises he couldn't keep. He closed his eyes and nodded, resigned. He opened his eyes again when gentle fingertips stroked his cheek tenderly. Lex had relaxed again, his implacable will once more concealed behind his façade of calm control.

"I'd kiss you," he said, a little teasingly, "but I don't think we want to give some people the impression that they were right."

Clark was blank for a minute, then remembered, and blushed. Lex chuckled.

"Oh, that makes you blush? Huh. When I think of the treasures of ingenuity I usually have to put into it…."

Clark caught his hand and brought it to his lips. "Don't, Lex. I'm never going to be happy about leaving you at risk, so don't try to tease me out of it. However, you're right. Again," he added, rolling his eyes and smiling lopsidedly.

"Of course," Lex replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Which, to him, Clark reflected, his smile widening, it probably was.

Lex laced his fingers through Clark's quickly, and tugged on his hand, leading him towards the door. "Come on. Dinner's waiting. You okay?"

"I'm fine. I won't disgrace you."

Lex stopped. "You never could," he said simply.

There it was again, the total certainty he had displayed a few minutes earlier, as he shaped Clark's still nebulous destiny. It was a little awesome. Perhaps a little aggravating.

"Anything you say, Lex," he said meekly, just as Lex opened the door.

He enjoyed the snort of laughter he got from the older man. Lex wasn't going to say anything out loud now, they were back under public scrutiny.  
But he didn't let go of Clark's hand.

 

End Chapter Twenty-One


	22. The Oak and the Cypress (22/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 22 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 6607  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

 **Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

 **Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

 **Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

 **Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

November, 2011

"Oh, my God!"

It was barely audible under the noise of the Chinook's double rotors, but the doctor sitting beside Clark caught it and shot him a sympathetic look. This was her second trip to Gotham City since the quake, and she understood exactly what Clark was experiencing.

From up here - they would be the last of the six helicopters to land - the view over the city provided a hallucinatory image of utter devastation, the kind of post-apocalyptic nightmare one expected to see only in the movies. The pall of dust that had hung over the ruins for months after the Cataclysm had finally dissipated, but the view did not seem very much clearer for all that. The rare city center towers that had not collapsed along with the rest of Gotham pointed shakily towards the sky, like a few dozen accusing fingers. The river flowed, gray and sluggish, around the peninsula, and all other color seemed leeched out of the wasteland, save for an extraordinary patch of almost poisonously virulent green at the heart.

Clark nudged his companion a little, and pointed at the green center, expression questioning.

"Robinson Park," she shouted. "Not worth your life to go in there. It's controlled by Poison Ivy. Looks pretty, but utterly deadly."

Clark nodded; he had read the file on Pamela Isley. He wondered if the toxins would have any effect on him. He was pretty sure nothing could get through his skin, but inhaling or ingesting something might be a different matter.

"You're up to date with the territory divisions?" the doctor asked him.

He nodded again and opened his case to show her a neat stack of clearly labeled folders. Lex had made very sure he had the best information available regarding who had 'tagged' - that is, who was in control of - what areas of Gotham City, although they both knew that in the days between the latest update and Clark's actual arrival in the disaster zone, things could have changed.

They set down in Grant Park, an area perilously close to the City Hall District, which was tagged by one of Gotham's most dangerous criminals - Harvey Dent, a.k.a. Two-Face. However, it was by far the best-suited area for what they intended to set up, and Lex had taken the relevant precautions. As the cargo was being unloaded, the small, but regrettably necessary mercenary army that Lex had hired was watching every step of the way; drugs, whether recreational or pharmaceutical, were worth their weight in diamonds in No Man's Land, and needed hefty protection. Clark checked the inventory, and then headed off to where the Red Cross was supposed to be installed, to organize the medical relief effort with them. He had several foremen with the team who would sort out the reconstruction work and start hiring labor.

* * *

Days later, things had fallen into a pattern. Clark spent his days coordinating his end of the overall relief work and keeping a close eye on Camp Lex, as the compound had been dubbed, and its employees. His first problems, not surprisingly, had come from the mercenaries. Within three days, he had had reports of harassment of some of the nursing staff concerning one man, and of an unprovoked and violent incident during the night concerning another. Lex had given him carte blanche in all respects, and he exercised it without hesitation, firing both men, who were decidedly too gung-ho for his peace of mind. (He was not particularly surprised to find them enrolled with Pettit's Strong Men a few days later.) It caused problems with the others, however, who were inclined to view him as Lex's fresh-faced twentysomething boy-toy.

"Pick a fight with their leader," Lex recommended the next evening, when Clark aired his problems.

"I can't do that, Lex!" Clark exclaimed, shocked.

"Of course you can. Just get in the man's face, and pick a fight. He'll take you on out of pride, and you're a big boy, Clark, literally; it's not like he'd be picking on the 98-pound weakling here."

"But, Lex - he can't win!"

"He doesn't know that. Just make sure nothing lands on your face, where you'd have to explain a lack of bruises. You can fake the rest."

"What if he pulls a weapon?"

"He won't. I did my research, Clark. They may have an attitude you don't like, and need to be pulled into line, but I wouldn't have hired these guys if they weren't basically honest, as far as mercenaries go. You show them who's in charge, they'll accept it. They'll drop the attitude and you become the guy who's paying their wages, ergo, the boss. So if there's anyone else there who's too hot off the mark, you can get rid of them, too. Understand, there's a core group here, those are the important ones. They took on extra help because I specified a certain number, but they can find replacements if you're not happy with things as they are. They'll get the point. They're not there to escalate things, just to protect what you've brought along and what you're doing."

Clark was a little reluctant, but he recognized the sense of what Lex was saying. He did have considerably more control over his strength and his speed these days, Lex was right about that. Years of fine-tuning (and some hilarious experiments squeezing various mineral rocks - Lex had proclaimed gleefully that they need never run out of money, even if the gemstones occasionally produced were still very flawed) had given him something approaching real precision in his use of his strength, not to mention many of his other powers.

He watched the mercenaries at their exercises for a couple of mornings, and then very deliberately got in their commander's face and provoked him. The commander was contemptuously dismissive at first, until Clark got more offensive than he'd realized he could be, and then he had taken a swing at the young man. Clark had dodged a few blows, gauging his speed carefully. It was not too difficult for him to side-step blows directed at his face, appear to be overmatched at first, and then suddenly floor the other man with a 'lucky punch'. When the commander got woozily to his feet a couple of minutes later, he had laughed, told Clark it was a pity he was a fag, but that he still had a hell of a right cross, and promised to keep his men in line.

When paperwork and other administrative matters weren't called for (and Clark was a little amazed at just how much was actually needed, even in an apparently thoroughly disorganized location like the quake-devastated Gotham City), he usually helped out at the canteen. It was part soup kitchen, too, and popular, both with the construction workers and the freely welcomed dispossessed. The food and the coffee were always hot, and that young guy, with the curly black hair and bright blue eyes, he was a really nice kid, kinda shy, a bit clumsy, but so easy to talk to, you know?

Clark had realized some years ago that he was good with people. He often heard what they were not saying, as well as what they were. Lex reminded him on a regular basis that he was getting other input as well; general body language, as well as a host of so-called invisible signals, such as heart-rate, pupil dilation, pheromone production, and so on. When you were talking to somebody already curled up as tightly as a hedgehog, though, it was the subtle inflections of the voice, singing with a complex yet perfectly decipherable harmony in Clark's ears that told what words did not say. He liked to listen, and to hear.

He did what he could to assist, of course, one way or another, but the listening was a help in itself - and he began to write.

He would always ask; ask if he could write this story or that. He didn't promise publication or lack thereof, just asked if he could use what he was being told. If the person said no, that was the end of it. Many said yes, however, and he wrote. Some stories he fictionalized, others came out more like a news report. When he had filled his first disc, he sent it back to Lex, about two weeks after his arrival in Gotham.

Lex called him two nights later, and his voice was curiously hoarse.

 _"Jesus, Clark, do you have any idea how this stuff reads?"_ he demanded without preamble. _"I got it last night, started reading, and I've barely been able to stop all through today. It's addictive, and incredibly moving."_

"It's cathartic, I guess," Clark smiled a little. "Sorry if it got too distracting. There's more; I'm still writing, I just ran out of space."

_"Listen, what do you want to do with it?"_

"Uh - nothing, really. It's mostly for you, so, you know…. I don't know," he said, a little helplessly.

_"Oh, no, this deserves a wider audience. Look, I'll sort out the ones you've done as short stories and put them aside, but the articles - let me show them to Chloe. Gotham's big news still, and there's a lot of mileage in it for the press. Plus, Perry White thinks that Alcot, the editor of the Gotham Gazette - and his boss, Rupert Thorne - are the scum of the earth, and he'd just love to get a quality human interest series running, because the Gazette doesn't have anything significant to offer in that line yet. I think your stuff would be perfect."_

"Well…" Clark hesitated. He was a little doubtful, but he had been published after the Nepal expedition, so he had reasonably serious, if slight, credentials, and he wasn't ashamed of what he'd written. "Okay - but not Chloe."

Lex was surprised. _"Why not?"_

"She's one of my best friends, Lex," he smiled. "I seriously doubt she'd be impartial, especially if White's eager for this kind of material. Give it to Lois. She's just as good as Chloe, she's more experienced, she doesn't know me anything like as well, and if she thinks it's trash, she'll rip it to shreds without a moment's hesitation."

_"In the meantime Chloe's going to rip me to shreds for having bypassed her. Thank you so much, Clark!"_

Clark chuckled. "Tell Chloe from me that if she puts so much as a finger-mark on your beautiful skin, she'll have me to deal with."

 _"Maybe you can say that kind of thing with a straight face,"_ Lex retorted dryly, _"but I certainly can't."_

"You're smart, Lex. You can juggle Dynamite and the Molotov Cocktail," Clark said breezily.

_"Brat! I'll get back to you."_

So that was how the "Everyman's Land" series of vignettes from the survivors of the Gotham quake began appearing in the Daily Planet, shortly to be syndicated all over the nation. Lex, pleased with the results, ensured that Clark's royalties went into an independent account - Clark still hadn't really given a lot of thought to earning his own living - and in his limited spare time began setting up the fiction stories for separate publication. He didn't have Clark's literary imagination, but he could see a flow in the stories, and knew Clark would be able to fill in the gaps when he was ready.

Meanwhile, Clark was really leading a double life. This should have been impossible; he was working hard enough during the day, but he had suspected for a while he needed very little sleep. He didn't quite understand how it was that he could sleep normal hours, even if he wasn't tired - he knew that from practical experience - but the fact remained that he could stay alert for days on end, and just an hour's doze would refresh him thoroughly. It was turning out pretty useful. When all but the night-staff in the camp was asleep, he would change into dark clothing, a black wool-knit cap pulled down tight over his head, and dark wraparound sunglasses - which he just knew made him look like a complete dork! - over his eyes. Then he would set out through the streets of Gotham, trying to aid as only his alien powers permitted him to.

He wandered through the shattered alleys and avenues, looking for ways in which to help. It was subtle enough, mostly. In the mornings, a repair crew might find that a particularly stubborn block of debris had shifted gently overnight, just enough to make the clearance suddenly much more simple. A water pipe would be newly welded, allowing clean water through to a previously disconnected city block. A shaky wall would have been reinforced by the safe fall of surrounding rubble. He tried to remain unobtrusive, and mostly, he was successful.

It was the children who started talking about the Quiet Man. There were thousands of orphaned children in derelict Gotham, lost or abandoned, confused and displaced. Many had been subverted and abused by neo-Fagins - Gotham's regular protectors took care of those, mostly, and Clark was aware of that. There was a small number who had found their way into Robinson Park where, despite her hatred of mankind, Poison Ivy sheltered them, some Demeter-like protective instinct touched in her. There were still many others, though, drifting aimlessly as the relief services searched for them. Children slipped through nets so much more easily than adults.

It was the found children who spoke of the Quiet Man. A nice man, they said, in dark clothes, with dark glasses, who had such a beautiful smile, and was so very gentle with them all. He never really spoke, just ruffled their hair, or chucked their chins lightly, and carried them away from the ruins until they reached the places where there were people - sometimes even their parents - waiting for them, to feed them and clothe them and help them.

Clark never realized that he had attracted the attention of Gotham's vigilante protectors. He had done well, keeping himself out of general view, considering his inexperience, but he picked up a 'shadow' after less than two weeks. One that observed - and filmed - him picking up a slab of concrete some 50 feet high by 6 feet thick, and shift it 50-odd feet to the side, in order to expose a manhole entrance to the old subway system.

Clark left, that particular job accomplished, and the shadow, after watching him disappear around a street corner, emerged into the wavering light of the street lamps. He was a lithe figure, in black body armor with a deep blue V-shape across his broad chest and a black, lensed mask over his eyes. He touched gauntleted fingers to a communications device implanted in his suit.

"Batman?"

 _"Nightwing,"_ the immediate response sounded in the miniature earpiece he wore.

"I've definitely found the Quiet Man. You need to see this."

There was a brief pause. _"How big a problem?"_

"I can't assess. You need to see this," he insisted. "Sorry - it's something a little special."

 _"The Clock Tower. Ten minutes,"_ came the brief response.

"Roger."

Ten minutes later, to the second, Batman appeared silently in the control room of the woman the superhero world knew only by her computer identity, Oracle. Nightwing had arrived barely a minute earlier.

"Show me," Batman said tersely.

Oracle touched the play button on the digital video player, and the image of the street where Nightwing had been came up on a large screen over their heads. They watched in silence as the image reflected the extraordinary sight of an apparently normal man just tossing aside several tons of masonry.

"Play it again," Batman ordered.

She complied, and he got her to freeze and zoom in at a particular point.

"It is him, isn't it?" Nightwing asked.

"Very likely. We do know he's in town. Have you noticed anything else?"

"I don't know. This is the first time I've actually picked him up at night. I saw him all through today, though - he works like a dog! If this is his regular routine, I don't know how he's on his feet, frankly."

"Communications with Luthor?"

"They talk every couple of days via cell phone. I haven't been recording. When I've listened in, it's seemed pretty straightforward. The articles. Status reports. Advance notice of requisitions. Some, uh, more personal things. Much more personal," he added, in a faintly embarrassed undertone.

"Keep a closer eye on him, see what he gets up to."

"Bruce - he's trying to help."

"You know my opinion on that!" the Bat returned darkly, and was gone. Nightwing sighed heavily, and the woman looked up at him, with a wry smile.

"Did you really expect any different?"

"No, I guess not. Still, why does he have to treat everyone as a potential enemy?"

"You're still asking that question, after sixteen years?" She shot him an indulgently amused look. "You know how it is. His way or the highway." She studied the frozen image again. "Who is this guy, anyway?"

He made huge eyes at her. "Babs! You mean you don't know?!"

She could hear the exclamation marks from here down to the street, and scowled at the younger man.

"Very funny, Hunk Wonder. Spill."

"I'm serious," Nightwing laughed. "I thought you knew everything. You watch all the news, read all the papers…."

"There's a limit to what a girl can take in. You obviously know the guy."

"A little. So do you, as a matter of fact. Well, you've met him once. I've met him a couple more times. Bruce knows him best."

"I've met him?" she queried, surprised.

"Uh-huh. Years ago," he supplied helpfully.

She turned her attention back to the screen and enlarged the image to as big a close-up as the resolution would permit, but then shook her head. "It's not exactly a good disguise, but it's enough to make identification difficult. Sorry, 'Wing, I don't see it, off-hand."

"Think back, oh, nine years. A dinner party at the Manor? My 'official' 16th birthday party?"

Her eyes widened, and she looked at the screen again. "Clark Kent? Lex Luthor's boyfriend?"

"Yep."

"Well…" She shot Nightwing a curious look. "Were they already together back then?"

"Yep. Just," he qualified.

The redheaded woman smiled a little, hands on the keyboard to call up a better image of Clark, taken from surveillance photos of the camp. "Lex does have good taste."

"Barbara!"

She laughed, blushing a little. "So? A girl can dream."

"What, all these guys right here at home in form-fitting Kevlar don't do anything for you?" Nightwing protested, affecting a hurt tone.

"Considering I've known several of them since they were snot-nosed kids," she rolled her eyes, "familiarity is not necessarily a recommendation. Fresh blood, on the other hand…" she added teasingly.

"Will get your hands cut off at the wrists, Babs," Nightwing said dryly. "Lex was never one to share his toys."

She grinned. "I used to imagine the only toys he had were spiky and blood-stained!"

The younger man frowned at her. "Ew! I don't think I want a tour around your twisted psyche. Let me tell you that on the rare occasions I've seen Clark, he's always looked completely and perfectly healthy - not to mention happy - to me, so rumors of Lex's perversions are probably grossly exaggerated."

She pouted exaggeratedly. "Oh, that's a pity…"

Nightwing stood rapidly. "I'm so outta here! I can't cope with your fantasies!" he exclaimed, in mock-horror.

* * *

Two nights later, Nightwing was watching in genuine horror as Clark descended into Two-Face's territory.

"Jesus Christ!" he swore to himself, "doesn't the guy know anything about Gotham these days? Even if he can toss 3 tons with one hand?"

He set his lines and prepared to pick Clark up and out of the way - and ran into what felt exactly like a brick wall.

Clark turned sharply as a solid body impacted against him and his eyes widened at the long-limbed, black-clad figure sprawling in the debris behind him.

"What…?"

Nightwing was already on his feet, not hurt, just a little winded. "Geez, Kent, what are you?! No, don't answer that. I was trying to get you out of here. For pity's sake, just run, willya?"

Clark frowned. "I can take care of myself," he said stubbornly.

Nightwing's voice hardened suddenly. "I'm well aware of that. Not tonight, though. Two-Face has kidnapped Gordon, his thugs and Gordon's Blue Boys are about to swarm over these streets in a head-to-head, and you do not want anyone to know just what you can do. This is not your territory, you don't know what you're playing with. Just trust me and get out of here. Right now!"

When Clark hesitated, his expression uncertain, Nightwing sighed impatiently. "What?"

"I was hoping to meet one of you…"

Nightwing made up his mind quickly. "If it'll keep you out of trouble for a little while, okay, but not now. Three hours, south end of Dixon Docks. If I'm not there tonight, look for me again tomorrow. Now, for the love of God, will you please get out of here?!"

The urgency of his tone finally communicated itself to Clark, who nodded and began retracing his steps. Nightwing remained behind, scanning, his lenses set to heat-sensors, praying desperately that no one - or at least, certain no ones - had seen that little altercation. To his relief, the area looked clear, and he slung his line and got out, resuming his part in the search for Gordon.

* * *

At two a.m., he was at the docks, and Clark was there, pacing up and down. Nightwing landed silently on the walk, in the shadows, with Clark ten paces away, but the other man turned instantly.

"What happened?" he asked bluntly.

"It's over. Two-Face surrendered. Gordon's fine, his men now control all the southern end of the island - including Grant Park, by the way, so you'd better make sure your people talk to his soon."

Clark nodded. "I'll do that," he said seriously. "Do you know why he gave in?"

"He came up heads, I guess," Nightwing answered cryptically. "Never mind, that's not the point. The point is you are running a very serious risk here. Dent may be out of the picture now, but there are still plenty of others out there you need to worry about. Penguin would sell your secrets to the highest bidder, Poison Ivy has a lethal way with trespassers, and we don't even know where the Joker is right now, and he's the worst of the lot. You don't want to mess with him, Kent, trust me on this. Even if bullets bounced off you and fire won't burn you, he would still find a way to your weak point, and you've got one, whatever you are. Every living being has one. You do not want Gotham's particular breed of villains getting an eyeful of just what you can do, believe me. I understand that you want to help, but you really need to stick to safer ground."

The young man was pale. "How do you know my name?"

"You think we don't keep track of everyone who enters and leaves Gotham? You came in at the head of a relief mission from LCI. You're doing great work, by the way - we're grateful - but you have a bad habit of wandering around at night. Leave Gotham to those who understand its secrets."

"You - you've seen me?"

Nightwing lowered his voice. "I've seen you toss weights ten bulldozers couldn't handle. Yes, I've seen you."

"Who are you?"

He quirked a smile. "Sorry. Forgot my manners, such as they are. The name's Nightwing."

"You're one of Batman's friends."

"He doesn't have any friends," Nightwing said dryly. "He does have a family."

"You sound like you've been watching me for a while."

"Best part of two weeks. We wanted to know what Luthor was up to."

"It's just a relief team," he replied hotly.

"Yeah. Except for you. You're not just anything! Batman's not wild about meta-humans on his turf, let me tell you."

"Meta-humans?" Clark frowned.

"Abnormally gifted?" Nightwing supplied as an alternative.

"You mean - there are others?"

Nightwing emerged from the shadows. "You didn't know?"

"Urban legends."

"So's the Bat," Nightwing chuckled faintly

Clark focused on him intently, and Nightwing felt a sudden urge to withdraw. Especially when his eyes widened.

"Dick?"

Nightwing recoiled, then succumbed to completely instinctual response and fled. He was six blocks away before his heart stopped pounding, and he was calm enough to contact Batman again.

"He made me," he said shortly.

_"What?"_

"Clark. He made me. I was barely visible. I swear I gave no indication we'd already met. He just looked at me and made me. Like he could see right through the mask."

There was a prolonged silence. _"Maybe he could,"_ came the eventual answer. _"Where are you?"_

"I'm still at the docks, but - I'm sorry. I ran. I couldn't do anything else, he's - I couldn't trust him not to say my name out loud again."

_"Go back. Carefully. See if he's still there and how he's responding. Bring him in, if you think it's right."_

"What?"

_"I trust your judgment. Someone like that - he can't stay on the outside, it's too risky. We have to bring him in."_

"If he could make me through my mask, he'll make you, too. He knows you much better."

_"I know. I'm hoping you'll make him understand how things are."_

That floored him, for a second. "Okay. I'll do my best."

 _"You always do,"_ the other voice said calmly. _"I'll be there when I can."_

He made his way back to the pier, via the rooftops. From the nearest warehouse he could see a curiously forlorn figure sitting with his back to the lamppost, hugging his knees. He thought about it for a few minutes, then swung his line out, and landed silently and gracefully directly in front of the other man. Clark looked up immediately and his face lit up, but Nightwing held a finger to his lips. Clark looked sheepish, and nodded silently. Nightwing activated the locator signal on his bike, and beckoned the other man to follow him. Together, without speaking, they walked through a couple of alleys, to the point where the sleek motorbike awaited its owner, its motor purring softly. Nightwing handed Clark the second, shielded helmet.

"Um - I'm blind here," Clark indicated, with the helmet on.

"That was the general idea; however, if you could see through my mask, with all the circuitry it contains, to identify me, you can probably see through that opaque visor. It's bad enough you made me so easily. I don't like to think you're capable of making the rest of the team. The boss wants to meet you, though, and I'm not taking you to him if you won't at least co-operate partly. So - just make nice, like you can't actually see through the visor, please?"

"Okay," Clark said mutedly.

Straddling the bike in front of the other man, Nightwing felt Clark lower his head; the hard curve of the helmet rested against his shoulder. Well, that was one way of not looking, he guessed, although it wasn't ideal on a motorbike. He set off, at a rather more sedate pace than he normally would have. If Clark wasn't going to be looking at the road - and Nightwing didn't really want him to, especially - then slower speeds would be necessary to get where they were going. They were still at the substation within twenty minutes.

"Okay, you can take it off now."

Clark did. "You're right. It wouldn't have stopped me from seeing," he said quietly.

Nightwing smiled wryly. "Maybe I should give it a lead coating." His smile broadened as Clark's expressive face reflected the accuracy of his guess. "You can't see through lead, can you?" he asked point blank.

"No."

"Interesting," he responded matter-of-factly. "How far can you see, by the way?"

"Depends on what I have to see," Clark said quietly, "I have several levels of vision."

"What?" Then he caught on. "Oh - of course. What else can you see, then? Thermal?"

"It's very complex," he returned quietly. "Even now, I'm still developing."

The young vigilante slanted him a surprisingly amused smile. "Join the club, buddy."

Clark turned a surprised gaze on him. "You know others like me?"

"Like you? I don't know about that. Others with special powers - sure. All that stuff that fascinated your friend Chloe, it's hardly unique to Smallville, though maybe not for quite the same reason. There is a definite cause-and-effect factor going on there."

"The meteor shower."

"Right. Still, you'd be surprised at how many mutations there are around the place which are certifiably and completely independent of your local problems. Come on, you must have heard of some of them. The Flash? Plastic Man?"

"Uh - I suppose I've been a bit self-absorbed. I was out of the country for a while, too," he said apologetically. "Why am I here?" was the next, tentative question.

"Because," said a deep voice from the shadows, "if you go on this way, you're going to become a liability to me and those working with me. I can't permit that, things are difficult enough as they are."

He'd heard of the Batman. Everyone had, even if few had actually seen him. It was like watching night coalesce. The darkness turned into a seriously big man. Even subtracting the mass of the body armor, he was bigger than Clark.

"I'm trying to help," he said, a little defensively.

"I'm aware of that. You're also risking exposure. I don't need Joker or Two-Face or any of the others to find out that there's a man in Gotham City who can literally move buildings and bend train tracks like paper clips."

"I can't be hurt. I can look after myself."

The cowled man's lips thinned. "It's not you I'm concerned about. It's the collateral damage that would be caused if any of the gangs decided to lay their hands on you. Have you considered that? You may be invulnerable, but the people you work with - and those you say you're trying to help - are not. Either they can be used as leverage against you, or they might simply be in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's not acceptable. Stick to the day job, and let your hired mercenaries continue to protect your people."

Clark looked down. He had not really considered how others might be affected by his actions, especially if he was 'outed' in terms of his powers. Then he looked up, his expression determined.

"It's not enough when I can do a lot more. It's not enough for me, I mean. You don't know the half of what I'm actually capable of, and I can't just sit on my hands and not try to help, it goes against everything in me. I accept that there are ways and ways of helping. So teach me."

Batman's head jerked fractionally. "What?"

"Teach me. Show me what I need to do to be able to use my abilities and help people, and not be a danger to them at the same time. Show me how to be 'me' and how to be - like you."

"That would be difficult," Nightwing murmured from behind him, his tone amused. "You're not exactly the type."

It was eerie, looking into those eye-slits that held only semi-opaque lenses, the eyes practically invisible. Clark consciously refrained from really 'looking', aware that if he took Batman's secret from him without his consent, he would probably never gain the trust of the other man. He did not lower his gaze, however, eager to convince Batman of his sincerity.

"Just how extensive are your powers?" the other man asked.

"Speed, strength, vision and hearing, invulnerability, extended lung capacity, laser vision - um, it may be possible that I can fly, though I haven't got the hang of that one yet, and it's not exactly easy finding somewhere to experiment without being overlooked. There are a few other quirks, too - I seem to have kind of a personal force-shield that extends a couple of centimeters out from my skin - my clothes tend not to get damaged, even if I walk through a blast. Oh - and I'm not human at all," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Batman showed no response, but Nightwing whistled softly. "Are you serious?"

Clark looked over his shoulder, and nodded.

"You look human to me."

He shrugged. "I can't help that. I don't know if I was - engineered to look like this, or if my, um, original race really is - or was - humanoid…"

"Was?" Batman picked up sharply.

"We've - been given some reason to believe that I might be the sole survivor of an explosion that destroyed my home planet," he said reluctantly.

"I take it Lex Luthor's aware of all this. He's included in that 'we'?"

"Yes."

"You identified Nightwing by 'seeing' through his mask."

"Yes."

"What about me?"

"I could, but I haven't. I won't," he said earnestly. "I didn't really mean to do it with D - I mean, Nightwing - either, but sometimes I don't think about it, and I just… see whatever I want to see."

"That's not good enough. If you're going to exist in two states, as two individuals, there must be as clear a differential between them as possible. That means never, ever, exercising your powers unconsciously. Total control is the only way you'll be able to make it work."

Clark's mouth quirked a little. "You're sounding a bit like my dad."

There was a silence, before Batman said, "I suppose he did well enough with you that you never betrayed yourself anywhere I was looking," and he pushed the cowl from his head.

Clark stared at him, astonished - and yet not. A lot of things suddenly clicked into place.

"Bruce."

"This does not get back to Lex," he said tightly.

"I - "

"No."

"It's not my habit to keep secrets from him."

"This isn't your secret."

"You didn't have to show me," he said in frustration.

"I did it to show you just how clear you have to be on what your responsibilities are, and how your choices can affect others. You'd have worked it out soon enough, I think, even if you did manage to keep your word and not look. I do not wish Lex to know that Bruce Wayne is the Batman. Nor to know the identities of any of the rest of my - clan, should you discover or be told them. If your relationship is as strong as it looks, he will accept that there may be some things you cannot tell him. Especially once you start using whatever persona you develop to permit you to exercise your powers openly." He drew the cowl back over his face. "Dick will help you work out your parameters, and with exercises on control. In the meantime, stay off my streets at night."

He was gone, reabsorbed into the shadows, before Clark could react. He turned a bewildered gaze on Nightwing, who was removing his mask, a wry smile curling his lips.

"Don't ask me if you'll get used to it," he said. "The answer's no."

"I - I thought Bruce liked me," he said, confused by the coldness of the older man.

"Oh, he probably liked Clark Kent well enough. The super-powered alien - that's a different matter. I warned you he didn't like meta-humans. You might not be human at all, but from his point of view, you fall into the same category."

"Why?"

"Because he thinks you all rely too much on whatever special abilities you have. We're human, Clark. Everything we do, we've learned the hard way, through trial and exercise. No tricks, no fancy gifts, just bodies and minds adapted to the job through training and discipline. That means we know exactly where the limits are. He doesn't trust you - others like you - to understand that. He is willing to let you try to carve out your own niche. I guess you wouldn't take no for an answer, anyway," he smiled a little, "and he saw that, too. So - we have some work to do."

Clark had a sudden thought. "Why did you get landed with the job?"

"'Cause I don't have Bruce's problems with metas or aliens," he grinned. "Most of my best friends are exactly that. It's maybe an age thing, too; he might figure you'll get along better with me than you would with him. He's the best at what he does, but he's not the easiest guy to get along with. You can take it from me, and I love him dearly. He still drives me crazy on a regular basis."

"This is effectively going to ground you for a while, right?"

"I was kind of already grounded, actually. I think he's being a bit sneaky on me, and saw this as a good opportunity to make sure I get a little down-time, rather than the observer's post I've had for a couple of weeks now."

"What happened?" Clark asked curiously.

"Got pulped in Blackgate," he said casually. "Not the first time, and very likely not the last, but it was pretty bad. I'm not exactly in fighting shape at the moment."

Clark automatically scanned for broken bones, but stopped abruptly when Nightwing hit him, quite hard, on the shoulder.

"Stop that. You're looking again, aren't you? That's exactly the kind of thing Batman was talking about. You can't just X-ray someone because you feel like it. Only when you need to, when the job demands it. Also, I find it very disconcerting. That kind of thing might turn Lex on, but it's not my scene."

Clark flushed, but grinned crookedly. "In your dreams."

Dick showed him the finger, grinning back. "Look, it's late, and I need to do some thinking about this - work out some sort of plan. I'll take you back to Grant Park."

"I don't need a ride back - I can run. Be faster," he smiled.

"Forget that. You don't know where the news choppers like to buzz around. All we need now is someone catching you on film!"

"Uh - right."

"Give me a minute to change."

He was back in less than five minutes, tossing the keys to his bike in one hand.

"Don't people recognize the motorcycle?" Clark asked curiously.

Dick waggled his eyebrows comically. "Watch and weep." He pointed his key-ring at the wheels - and the paint job altered radically, as well as a couple of other alterations to the general outline of the bike, as sections of the body changed place. Even the two helmets changed color.

"Wow!"

"This is a pretty good gig, when you're not being pounded," he smirked. "Lots of cool toys."

The ride back to the south end of Gotham City was without incident, and Dick dropped Clark off just a couple of streets away from his base camp.

"I'll be by tomorrow. Probably early evening. There's a lot of just basic talking things through to be done, I think, and there's no reason we shouldn't be seen hanging together."

Clark shot him a wicked grin. "Are you sure about that? I don't know what kind of a reputation you have, if any, but I can guarantee that if we're seen together more than once, some paper is going to suggest that Lex Luthor's boy-toy has found himself a new man."

Dick looked unruffled. "Yeah, well, if anyone suggests that's me, you'll be able to hear the laughter from Gotham County all the way to Kansas. See you tomorrow."

 

 **End Chapter Twenty-Two**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole "No Man's Land" segment of the novel is, of course, drawn from the big crossover arc DC Comics ran in the Bat-books during 1999 and 2000, but more precisely (notably in the geographic details) from the novelisation Greg Rucka wrote based on that arc


	23. The Oak and the Cypress (23/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 23 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 5189  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

Dick turned out to be an astonishingly good teacher. They started out just talking mostly, discussing what it was, or might be like to live a double life, and all the complications naturally inherent therein. More than that, the complications Clark in particular would face given his relationship with such a high-profile figure as Lex.

"I spent some time looking at press reports on you. You're doing pretty well, all things considered. Not too many public appearances. It helps that you're squeaky clean - some papers, notably the Inquisitor, have obviously tried to dig up anything they could, and failed spectacularly. On the other hand, you have made a name for yourself, and your face is known, especially right now. That's something that we're going to have to watch. You need to keep your head down from now on, and most particularly while Lex is still governor."

"It's not going to stop there," Clark smiled wryly.

"What isn't?"

"Lex's ambitions don't stop there."

Dick gave him a startled look. "You don't mean…"

"Uh-huh."

Dick ran a hand through his black hair. "Good God. Lex for President. Now there's a thought."

"You don't approve?" Clark queried, a little coolly.

"Don't get on your high horse. I think that he could either be the greatest boon, or the biggest catastrophe this country could encounter," he said honestly. "Listen - if you're right, and if he's got a real chance, you really, really, really need to get your priorities sorted. Because the thought of someone like Lex in a position of extreme power, with a - a tool like you could become at his command - and you are at his command, pretty much - just doesn't bear thinking of. George Orwell, anyone?"

Clark scowled, and Dick sighed.

"Oh, please. Get real. We had this discussion about Lex the first time we met, remember? I like the guy, personally, but he has the potential to be seriously dangerous. You might well be the very thing that's keeping him in line. On the other hand, you're in love with him, and you'd very likely go some way to make him happy. Maybe he wouldn't even have to ask, never mind order, all he'd have to do would be to suggest. If you don't have your head screwed on very straight, if you don't have a really sharp view of what's right and wrong and all the shades in between, then he could manipulate you very easily. Now, Bruce says your folks have a really strong moral compass, and they've had an enormous influence on you. This is good. You need to lean on that teaching. You need to separate out Clark Kent - private life, boyfriend and all - from Kal-El and his - his mission."

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/0000bfpa/)

 

That was a lot to chew over, and it gave Clark sleepless nights. Well, it would have, if he slept much. More accurately, it led to far too much coffee. Guess what, aliens can be coffee junkies, too, he thought with some amusement, catching himself brewing up a third pot in the space of as many hours.

Some of the other things Dick taught him were rather more surprising. First of all, he insisted on teaching Clark some basic martial arts. This had come about after Clark had told him about the incident with his security team commander, and the other man had slapped his own forehead and promptly started making notes, muttering under his breath.

"I should have considered that. You've got to know how to fake it as Clark."

That was a real lesson in self-control, especially when, as sparring partner, Dick had introduced him to the Batman's young sidekick, Robin. Clark had objected violently, petrified of hurting the boy, until Dick had reminded him tartly that that was the point of the exercise - how to hold his own 'as a human' and make it look real. It wasn't just a matter of pulling his own punches, he had to learn how to react to blows. He realized he'd been lucky in that fight with the mercenary, though he'd thought he'd been clever about it.

There were other lessons. One was a particularly humiliating one, where Clark learned the difference between seeing and observing. Dick had come to Camp Lex in the mid-morning, extracted Clark from his duties, taken him uptown to the MASH district, and sat him on a folding chair just enough out of the way that he wouldn't be bothered. Then he'd instructed Clark just to sit still and watch. And watch, and watch, and watch. Dick kept him there for eight hours straight, telling him off sharply when he got fidgety. After that, he grilled Clark exhaustively on the constant parade of humanity that had passed before his eyes. Clark had been scarlet-faced with embarrassment when he realized how little he had really taken in of what he had seen. He only became even more embarrassed when Dick pointed out acidly that if he was capable of reading a book in about three minutes, then all the information was in fact locked in his brain and he only needed to learn how to access it. That had been an eye-opener about just how much he had to learn, and how much work people like Dick and Bruce and Robin had put in to becoming what they were.

"You're good at this training thing," he commented to Dick one day, when they were just out taking the air - ironically, Gotham's air was purer now than it had been at any time before the Cataclysm - over in Chinatown, where the Army Corps of Engineers had started rebuilding Brown Bridge, and de-mining Gotham River. The concentration of activity had encouraged the re-opening of a few small businesses, including a couple of restaurants, miraculous survivors among the rubble.

"I've done it before," he admitted. "Robin. The current one, that is, as well as a couple of the newer Titans. The thing is adapting the techniques to the student. Everyone has different needs."

"The current Robin?" Clark picked up.

Dick's eyes were shadowed, his usual smile absent. "Long story. A very painful one. Don't ask. Maybe some day."

"Sorry," Clark said gently.

The other man was silent for a moment, sipping at the steaming mug of green tea. "The biggest battle, in the end," he said eventually, "is the one you wage with yourself. Establishing where your boundaries lie, and where you mustn't go. When you have the ability - and whether it's innate, like you, or taught, like me, the potential for deadly force is still there - the question is always there as to whether it's ever right to use it. The answer's always the same: no. Time and again, though, you'll come up against situations which challenge that decision, people whose actions are so terrible, and repeated with every chance they get, that it really seems like the only way to put an end to it - to them. That's something that can be very hard to live with."

"I don't think I've ever wanted to kill someone."

"You will," came the bleak response.

The black mood passed then, but the memory remained as a reminder to Clark that no matter how outré the whole vigilante business occasionally seemed, those involved were deeply committed and acutely aware of their course of action. It was not just black or white, right or wrong. Although those positions also had to be clearly defined, they tended to represent extremes, in between which appropriate response and action had to be situated.

Then there were other times when Clark just wasn't sure whether this wasn't all just some enormously elaborate game they were playing. At his expense.

First came the glasses.

Clark had agreed that if he wasn't going to be masked - somehow the idea of being masked really didn't feel right to him - then he needed to make some alterations to his day-to-day appearance. Dick had told Clark that he left considerations of that sort up to Alfred, who was, apparently, an accomplished actor and knew a thing or two about disguise. Alfred had looked the young man up and down, until Clark felt like a fish in a bowl, and then just nodded a little mysteriously. The next night, he had produced the glasses.

"Uh, no offense, Alfred, but isn't that kind of an old trick?"

"The old ones are often the best ones, Master Clark," the elderly butler had said, quite unruffled.

He had tried them on. They were clear glass, of course - there was nothing wrong with his vision - but when he looked at himself in the mirror, he wanted to cringe. It wasn't that he was vain - despite Lex's unstinting admiration of his form - but, well, he'd spent several years trying to grow out of his geeky image. The only thing he'd retained - he thought he'd retained - was a tendency to stoop a little, because he honestly didn't enjoy towering over his classmates. If he'd been embarrassed in school, it had been worse in Italy, where the majority of the men had been closer to Dick's height and build than his own. There were times when he'd felt like Gulliver in Lilliput. So, okay, he stooped a bit. But with these thick-rimmed glasses…?

"I look like a dork," he complained

"You're the one who was wearing sunglasses at night," Dick put in sarcastically.

Clark had just known he wasn't going to get any sympathy from Mr. Mouth there!

Then it was the costume. Well, the costume suggestions. Alfred had, in turn, enlisted the aide of Robin. Robin, judging from some of the sketches, had amused himself mightily. Even Dick - when he had stopped laughing - had remonstrated with the teen.

"You want me to look like a Christmas tree ornament," Clark had groused.

"Look, it's not like we have a particular theme to go by, you know," Robin said, a shade apologetically. "It's easier with some of the others, there's one thing in particular that they do, and the costume tends to reflect that. But you? You can do everything. We just didn't quite know where to start. Even if there was some - I don't know - a logo? Some kind of symbol? Something you felt represented you - this aspect of you, at any rate."

Unbidden, an image popped into Clark's mind, and he reached for paper and pencil. He drew the five-sided diamond shape that appeared on his ship, and inside that, he drew an infinity loop in a vertical position. He considered the image for a moment, and on impulse, erased it and re-drew it. The pentagonal shape was widened and flattened, and he removed part of the loop to leave a broad, slightly angular 'S' shape.

The other three were giving him expectant looks, and he colored a little.

"Um - these - I have a ship… well, it's more kind of a pod. What I landed on Earth in, when I was little. These are symbols from it. Don't ask me why I picked them. Except," he tapped the S-shape with the pencil, "this - well, the first version - is a letter from my alphabet. I'm still trying to decipher the language, but then this - the No Man's Land project, I mean - came up, and I couldn't risk bringing the, um, reader I was using with me, so that's kind of gone on hold."

Alfred was looking at it with an intrigued air. "Curiously enough, Master Clark, I am rather reminded of an artifact with which I believe you would be quite familiar: the breast-plate of Alexander the Great that's in the Metropolis Museum of Art."

Clark blinked a little, reconsidered his drawing, and recognized the truth of the comment. "You're right. Funny - I haven't thought of that thing for years. Lex told me that sign on the breastplate was a symbol for strength and courage." He smiled faintly. "I remember telling him I couldn't imagine going into battle wearing anything like that. I might have known I'd have to eat my words one day."

Alfred was transcribing the image into the graphics program on the computer, tweaking at it slightly to create a balanced and harmonious symbol.

"That looks good," Dick pointed, at a particular moment.

Alfred nodded, saved the symbol, and then transplanted it onto the chest of the outline figure of Clark that they had been using for a model. The four men studied it for a moment, then Clark shrugged, and nodded.

"I'm okay with that, I guess."

"It's a start," Robin added cheerfully. "We'll play around a little with that."

Clark glanced at his watch. "I'd better be getting back to camp."

"Yes, you had," came the deep voice from the shadows. "I'd like very much to know what Luthor is up to."

Clark turned to face Batman, surprised. "Lex? Nothing in particular, as far as I know."

"Then why is he on his way here with half a dozen helicopters, two of which are carrying the biggest pine tree I've ever seen?"

Clark's eyes widened, and then he had to fight to suppress a grin he thought probably would not go down well with the grim vigilante. "Well - it is nearly Christmas," he offered, low-key.

"You're telling me he's here to celebrate Christmas with you?" He sounded distinctly incredulous.

Clark smiled a little. "Okay. Not that he's said anything to me, but knowing Lex, he's maybe partly here on a photo-op. Lex doesn't miss much, and it is the end of No Man's Land in eight days, right? Politically speaking, that is - I know there's still a enormous amount of work to do," he added gravely. Batman didn't take frivolity well at all. "However, Gotham City is reborn at midnight on New Year's Eve. It's cause for celebration, and Lex has played his part in it all, you know that. If you don't," he added a little defensively, "I suggest you talk to Lucius Fox, because Lex has been backing him in Washington 100%."

"I know." Batman sounded a little less uptight now.

There was a silence, then Clark sighed. "You have my word I will not tell Lex your identities, but I expect you to allow me to let him know that I'm getting training from you. That was part of the reason I came here in the first place - not specifically the training, but to learn for myself what I could do, and how to do it. He's going to know something's happened right away, he knows me too well."

The dark-cowled head inclined slightly, and Clark tried not to heave an audible sigh of relief. It didn't matter that he knew he could take on an army and win, Batman still intimidated the hell out of him. He felt about twelve in his presence, usually. It was extremely disconcerting.

"I guess we won't be seeing too much of you over the next week or so, then," Dick broke the silence, his voice absolutely dripping with innuendo.

"Probably not," he agreed amiably, glad he no longer colored up so easily. "Come by the camp, anyway, during the day sometime. Lex knows we've been meeting." He smirked, glad of the chance to do a little teasing of his own. "I told you it would happen. There's probably somebody from the Inquisitor among the camp workforce. There was a photo a couple of weeks back."

Dick's jaw dropped. "What, suggesting that you'd ditched Luthor for me?"

"Yep."

He burst out laughing. So did Robin; Alfred had a sedate smile, and even Batman, for a moment, looked a shade less grim.

"Oh, my God," Dick was still laughing, "Oracle can't have seen that, she'd never let me hear the end of it!" He rounded on his young colleague suddenly, pointing a menacing finger. "If I find out you've e-mailed her a copy…!" The threat, left hanging, sounded sufficiently dire.

Robin, still sniggering, held up his hands in a peace gesture.

"I take it there was no fallout from Lex?" Dick asked.

"Don't be ridiculous," Clark said smugly. "That's as dumb as suggesting there's anything to the rumor in the first place."

"Okay, okay, just checking," Dick laughed. "Sure, I'll be around to see Chromedome."

Clark said goodbye, and made for the exit tunnels. To his surprise, Batman followed him.

"Clark?"

The younger man turned to face him, questioningly.

"I've been following what Dick's been working on with you."

"I'd be surprised if you hadn't been," he smiled faintly.

"You're doing well. There's still a lot to be learned, but you're taking it seriously, and that's good."

Praise from the Bat was rare indeed. Clark ducked his head, a little shy suddenly. "Thank you."

"I don't suppose you'd be able to persuade Lex to leave as quickly as possible."

That was a surprise. "Well - maybe, but I'd have to have very good reasons. Even if this is a surprise visit, we haven't seen each other in weeks…." He left it open-ended.

"The Joker is still on the loose, and he's spoiling for a fight. With me. High profile people and events are prime targets for him, and that's exactly what Lex represents."

Clark made a slightly helpless gesture. "I - I don't know. I don't know if Lex would take it seriously. Between the military personnel around the city already, our own security team, you people, and me, I don't know if I could persuade him that it's a serious threat. Come to that, I don't know that _I'm_ persuaded it's a serious enough threat. Lex goes around guarded like Fort Knox these days, which you should know," he added dryly, "since you're the one who talked him into a situation where he needed it."

"The Joker is perhaps the deadliest creature on earth," Batman said seriously. "Homicidal maniac doesn't begin to cover it. Not to mention that he seems to have acquired this… girlfriend," it was said with a complex mix of disbelief and distaste, "who appears to be just as insane and just as anarchic as he is, which is saying something."

Clark looked at him. It never did to take Batman's warnings lightly. "I'll do what I can. He can be pretty stubborn. In the end, he's right, if he's with me, nothing will get to him. You don't need to say it," he said quickly, "it's not about him or me, it's about the others. I get it. I'm not in any position yet where I can just cut the Joker off short and drop him in the river for you, not without exposing myself, and that means potential casualties. I'll pass the word around to be extra vigilant. What if he is sighted near Camp Lex?"

"Get your civilians under cover as quickly as possible. Warn your men not to get separated. He's an expert at getting his opponents to do themselves more harm than he actually does. He tends to wage wars of attrition, and then comes in when there's little or no opposition left. Beware of anything that appears even slightly untoward, he's very good at disguises. Also red herrings."

Clark nodded. "Okay. Thanks for the heads-up. Batman," he called, as the tall, dark figure began to fade away. It stopped. "I know I'm not ready yet, but if there's anything that might really need, well, the kind of thing only I can do, I'd still like you to call on me."

"Thank you for the offer," the deep voice said, non-committal, and he was gone.

* * *

The helicopters arrived a little after ten. By the time Clark made his way to the plaza where the giant pine was being carefully maneuvered into position, Lex, immaculate as ever in a charcoal suit, mauve shirt and pewter-colored tie, with his trademark black greatcoat, was out on the ground directing operations. Even from a dozen yards away, Clark had to smile. To outsiders, Lex might look like his usual efficient, urbane self; to Clark, he looked as excited and exuberant as a small child.

The tree was bolted into place, and ground crew began fastening the hawsers up its length, and Lex turned unerringly to where Clark stood. For years now, Lex seemed to have a radar where Clark was concerned, knowing instinctively exactly where the younger man was anywhere within about a fifty-yard radius, even if he wasn't actually in sight. That radar functioned again now - Lex could not possibly have seen Clark arrive, but he turned without hesitation to the corner of the square from which Clark watched, and began walking towards him. Clark advanced to meet him.

"Well?" Lex shouted above the roar of the two choppers, which were finally pulling away, having dropped their ties to the tree. "What do you think?" he asked, eyes bright, gesturing behind him to the tree.

"I think you're a shameless exhibitionist!" Clark yelled back, grinning hugely.

Lex put his head back and laughed out loud, and walked straight into Clark's arms to hug him, hard and fast.

"I thought a little festive cheer wouldn't hurt." It was getting easier to hear and talk as the helicopters moved out of range.

"A _little_ festive cheer? You're not capable of doing anything small-scale, are you?"

"Of course not, I'm a Luthor," Lex answered, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He looked Clark up and down, blue-grey gaze assessing, a little hungry - until it settled on Clark's thick, horn-rim glasses, and turned distinctly speculative. Clark could see Lex decide not to question him about them in public; instead, he asked, "So, are you going to show me around? The guys will decorate - we had the plan all worked out already,"

"Of course you did. Lex, you do know you're still violating a Federal Declaration here, right?"

Lex looked up at him with an unusually wicked glint in his eyes. "I had a word with the President. You know," he added - butter not melting in his mouth didn't begin to cover it, Clark thought, except for that little twinkle in the pale eyes. "I think he's a little afraid of me?"

Clark rolled his eyes. "What have you done now?"

"Oh - nothing much."

"Lex…"

"No, really. It just occurred to me that I might earn a few brownie points if I set up alternative work plans or retraining facilities and special loans for those in this country whose livelihoods were going to be damaged by the introduction of Ecoline," he said innocently. "I may have bought a bank or two. It's much easier to organize special loans that way," he added absently. "Anyway, nothing significant. Lots of philanthropic stuff, of which I'm sure you'd approve thoroughly."

"Lots of vote-catching stuff!" Clark amended shrewdly. "I thought you were planning on two terms as governor. Are you thinking of going for the White House early?"

He looked a little thoughtful. "No, not yet, it's too early. First of all, I'd be constitutionally too young. Second, I need the whole Ecoline business to have settled down a bit before I take on that particular challenge. Third, I'm still waiting for some regulations to change. At the moment, I'd really have to cut all ties to LCI to become President, and I'm not ready to do that, not until I'm sure I can pick them up again afterwards. It's been hard enough to tread the line in Kansas by keeping LCI out of government business; this time I had to make an announcement to the legislature in advance of the public launch, and offer to stand down. Fortunately for me, most of them had the sense to see that I've proven already that I can run a state and my business at the same time."

Clark read Lex-Speak like an open book. "And?" When Lex turned innocent gray-blue eyes on him, he scowled back. "Come on, Lex, spill!"

"No, no, it's nothing," Lex insisted. Then he got one of those faintly sweet smiles that Clark knew always spelled trouble for somebody. "I'm just hoping that none of my esteemed senatorial colleagues in Kansas have been foolish enough to divest themselves of their petrochemical holdings as a result of my disclosure, because that would be tantamount to insider trading."

"Let me guess," Clark said dryly. "The lieutenant governor?" Lex had been longing to get rid of his irksome elected deputy from the very first day in office. "And you've already slipped the word to - Chloe?"

Chloe Sullivan didn't always know exactly where her tip-offs came from. Lex made no pretence of not favoring the _Daily Planet_ 's newest and fastest rising investigative reporter, even when she was openly critical of him in print. That didn't hurt her reputation any. As to the anonymous tips, however, Lex maintained a fine line between items that advanced his own plans, and those that had no relevance to him, but were an investigative journalist's goldmine in any event. Clark thought that this particular item would probably tip Chloe off definitively as to the identity of her most mysterious - not to mention most reliable and interesting - source, but then Chloe seemed to walk the tightrope of journalistic ethics with considerable aplomb. She would not relinquish such a valuable source very easily. On the other hand, Lex would not feed her information, directly or indirectly, that was likely to get her into hot water; he would have Clark to deal with if he did. She was perfectly capable of getting into trouble all by herself, anyway.

"I felt I owed her something for by-passing her on the 'Everyman's Land' series," Lex said, with a shrug.

"It is true, right?" Clark asked, just to be sure.

"Of course it's true!" Lex said, offended. "What's more, it's in the minutes of that session that I specifically warned everyone that getting rid of petrochemical stocks in the 48 hours between then and my public announcement would almost certainly be viewed as an offense by the government!"

"Okay, okay, just checking."

He took Lex's arm as they walked back to the park, and squeezed gently, apologetically. Lex sniffed lightly, but Clark knew he was forgiven when the older man leaned in against him briefly.

He started by showing Lex the main construction sites near the park. Workers paused to wave at him; the foremen came to give him progress reports, and were introduced to Lex. They were a little subdued in the presence of the man who was effectively their boss's boss. Clark was always very easy-going, friendly and effortless to get along with. Lex, though he exuded an undeniable charisma, was a much cooler, more reserved character, impressive almost without trying to be, charming, but not really very approachable.

Lex disapproved slightly of the familiarity with which Clark was treated, and even more of his nickname.

"CK?" he asked, doubtfully, after the first stop, one eyebrow raised.

Clark chuckled, not fazed in the least. "There's another Clark; Johnson, the chief rigger. To avoid confusion, the crew refers to us by our initials. CJ and CK."

Lex gave a resigned sigh. "I suppose it's a valid reason."

"At least you can distinguish my initials," Clark smirked, teasing. "I know five people now with the initials LL."

Lex frowned slightly, and started counting off on his fingers. "Me. My father. Lana." A pause. "Lois Lane…. No - who's the fifth?"

Clark laughed. "No one you know. A marine biologist posted out at Cape Carmine. Lori Lemaris. She'll be at the Christmas party; I'll introduce you. Nice woman."

"Okay. I'll remind you my initials aren't actually LL, by the way."

"Right. You sign yourself like that, Lex. The day I see you sign 'Alexander,' I'll be looking for the pod under the bed!"

Lex grinned at him. "That's funny, coming from you!"

Clark stuck his tongue out, just fleetingly.

"Don't tempt me, farmboy," Lex growled under his breath.

Clark sighed, but happily, and continued the tour.

* * *

When they got back to the heart of Camp Lex in the early evening, Clark did a double take.

"What happened to my tent?"

Lex affected an airy demeanor. "Oh, yes - I thought I'd solve your other main problem while I was at it."

"What other problem?"

Lex gave him a pitying look. "My poor lamb, how many times since you got here have you complained to me how short the camp beds were?"

"Don't call me that," Clark grumbled. "What about the tent?"

"You don't really expect me to sleep in a tent?" came the incredulous response.

Clark didn't know whether to remonstrate, or laugh. Where Clark's tent - which had already been large, by the standards of the camp - had been pitched, now stood a spacious Quonset hut, complete with electronic keypad lock on the door. Lex, blithely ignoring his lover's bemusement, went up to the hut and keyed in a code. Clark followed him in - and then he just had to laugh, softly. A king-size bed, lavishly furnished in crisp indigo cottons, occupied the left-hand side of the hut. To the right was a dining/lounging area, and there was even a private washroom - shower and chemical toilet - the height of luxury, if you were roughing it. Naturally, the utilities - electricity and water - had already been connected and were in full working order.

"You're so spoiled, Lex," Clark chuckled.

Lex just looked smug. "Not at all. You'll find there are other advantages. Like the whole compound not knowing when I nail you to that large, comfy mattress over there." he added with an irrepressible smirk.

"I was expecting you'd probably have to gag me," he admitted.

Lex twined long fingers through the black curls and pulled his head down to kiss him lingeringly.

"How many times have I told you your mouth is way too pretty to be gagged? Though," he plucked the glasses from Clark's nose, "since when do you need lenses?"

"Since I decided to try modifying my day-to-day appearance, to make me less noticeable." Clark drew him in close, going for that sensitive spot just behind his jaw on the left.

The older man pulled back a little, eyes bright with understanding. "So it's begun?"

"Can we talk about that after you've nailed me to the mattress?" he asked plaintively.

"Sure," Lex said reasonably. "Later." He slipped out of Clark's embrace.

That earned him a black look. "You are the worst kind of tease…"

Lex just smirked, and put the thick, horn-rimmed glasses back on Clark's face. He gave him a critical look.

"They're really not flattering, you know. You could have picked a different style."

"They're not meant to be flattering," Clark sighed. "Besides, I got them here, and resources are limited."

"Well, that'll do, but we'll get something else later… "

"Lex - I got them from a very specific source. A source of which questions won't be asked as to why it's issuing clear-lensed glasses."

Lex gave him a look. "Later?"

"Yeah, later," Clark smiled a little. "Don't grouse about the glasses."

Lex scowled a little. "I like my sexy boyfriend."

"He's still here," Clark said, in a low tone, and put his large hand around Lex's beautiful bare head to kiss him hungrily. "Right here."

 

End Chapter Twenty-Three


	24. The Oak and the Cypress (24/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 24 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 5920  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

"Snuggler," Clark accused fondly. It was an old tease.

"Am not."

"Are, too."

"Am not!"

"Right. You couldn't get a sheet of paper between us right now."

"It's the 22nd of December, it's fucking freezing out there," Lex declared loftily, "and I'm always cold. Hence…"

"Snuggler," Clark confirmed.

"Brat!"

He caressed Lex's lean form lovingly. "Only you could take that as an insult." Amusement ran deep in his voice. "God, I've missed you."

Lex's mouth was furnace-hot on his nipple, and he moaned a little, arousal raising its weary head once more, even though they'd just had an exhaustively satisfying session. He seriously hoped Lex's claims as to the soundproofing of the hut were true, or he'd be facing the worst barrage of blue jokes imaginable the next day. It wasn't as if everyone couldn't take a good guess at what he and Lex were doing in here as it was, but he thought actually hearing it would be just a bit too much information.

Lex lapped at the stiff nub of flesh, and then desisted, easing in - not snuggling! - closer still. They were both very much awake still, he could tell.

"It's later," he said quietly.

"It wasn't just the glasses, was it?" Clark returned, just a little anxious about Lex's possible reactions. "I knew you'd notice right away."

"Difficult not to. I've known you forever, farmboy. Since before you'd really grown up. I always see the changes in you."

"That's what I told him."

"Batman?"

"Uh-huh."

"He's training you?"

"No. Not directly. Actually - he doesn't really like me much," Clark admitted ruefully.

Startled, Lex propped himself up to look into Clark's face. "What?" he asked, with a note of outrage.

"You heard me."

Lex frowned, settling back down again. "That doesn't say much for him. Come on, Clark, who doesn't like you? You're about the most likeable man on the face of the planet."

"You're biased."

"So you've said. I've yet to see any evidence to the contrary."

"I think I can understand him, a little bit. It's not personal. It's - well, it's the powers. He doesn't really like any of the, um, super-powered beings here. I mean, not just here in Gotham, but here, in the States. Or maybe even further afield, that's the kind of thing I don't ask about."

"He's still training you, though?"

"One of his, uh, 'family,' with his authorization. Guy called Nightwing. Younger, more relaxed."

Lex nodded against his shoulder. "I've heard of him. Blüdhaven, usually, right?"

"That's the one."

"You're okay with that?"

"Yes. We get along. Batman…." Clark smiled a little ruefully. "He's scary."

Again, Lex leaned up. "From what I've heard, he's still human. You could tie him in knots."

Clark nodded. "Yes. I know. We both know. That doesn't make him any less scary. You have no idea, Lex, and I can't begin to describe it. Trust me, if I was going to be scared of any human being other than you, it would be him."

Lex looked stricken. "Other than me?" he repeated, in a hollow tone.

Clark realized what he had said and reached out to gather his lover in close. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that quite the way it sounded. Sometimes I just wonder, though. If we hadn't been friends, or if we'd fallen out, if you hadn't decided to change your life…. I know I could never have made you do anything you didn't want to. If you'd followed in your father's steps, we'd have been enemies. While I'm not afraid of your father anymore, you - you're a very different matter. You're extraordinary, Lex. You don't know how often I give thanks that you're you, as you are now, and with me, rather than against me."

He relaxed. "Don't feed my vanity," he said, his tone humorous.

"No? Can I feed your sex drive?" Clark teased.

"Any time, farmboy, any time."

* * *

"Don't you ever sleep?" Lex asked lazily.

Clark smiled. "Not a lot. Not since I was about twenty. Is this the first time you've noticed, in all this time?"

"I'm not sure. I could have sworn you slept with me before."

"I did. I do sleep. I like sleeping with you, so I tend to when you do. I just don't need it. You seem more alert than usual tonight."

"I've been restless. Missed you."

"Ah." Clark smoothed his hand over the warm, bare scalp. "Sorry." Clark's lips touched Lex's skull gently. "Is everything okay, Lex? You do seem a little hyper. It's not over Ecoline, is it? You've had that planned well in advance, and you've got it as well under control as something like that can be."

"There have been some - mildly - unexpected responses."

The younger man stilled. "Your father?"

"Among others. LuthorCorp was a bit too heavily involved with countries that are about to go - well, after years of considering themselves unassailably rich, they're going to have to do a bit of economic restructuring, let's say. They're not very happy. Lots of international screaming and yelling."

"We anticipated that. Let's face it, Lex, you're changing the world here."

"I guess," he said diffidently. "I kind of dropped a hint to my dad a few years ago, but I'm not really surprised that he didn't pay any attention. It's hardly the first time." He sounded almost indulgent.

"It's not going to bankrupt him?"

Lex chuckled. "Oh, no. No chance of that. He's never believed in putting all his eggs in one basket. His latest thing is - or rather, was - real estate. Here."

"What?"

"Remember that the Gotham Hall of Records blew up?"

"Uh - yes, in October. Before I got here."

"That was Dad."

"What?!"

"He paid someone to blow up the Hall of Records. All public records were destroyed; birth, death and marriage certificates, company registration records - and deeds and titles of land ownership."

"The government surely has copies, in the Library of Congress, or something like that?"

"Oh, he'd taken care of that, too. Then he faked title deeds to half of Gotham City. Some of the most valuable real estate in the country - or will be, once the declaration is revoked - and Dad was ready just to waltz in and lay claim."

Clark was astounded. "What stopped him?"

"I'm not absolutely sure. Under the circumstances, I suspect your pointy-eared 'friend'. At any rate, I got a mystery call about three weeks after you'd settled in here, letting me in on Dad's latest little scheme and asking if I'd be prepared to provide a government 'fingerprint' - a digital watermark - in order to stop him."

"Could you?" Clark asked, wide-eyed.

"I'm Governor of Kansas, farmboy," Lex sighed. "What do you think?"

"Well, then, did you?"

"I got a few more assurances, but, yes. Everything I was told checked out. The contact - it sounded like an electronically generated voice to me - said I could get it erased in two weeks, just for safety's sake. A gamble, but I take gambles all the time."

"So what happened next?" Clark asked. There were times when Lex and Lionel's constant power games were better than a soap opera.

"Oh - he was all set to sweep into town and clean up when he got a visit from Lucius Fox and a couple of extremely polite Federal agents, wondering if he knew that there had been an attempt to set him up by forging title documents in LuthorCorp's name, when notarized originals were all clearly available for consultation." He was smiling again.

"What did he do?"

"What could he do? Took it on the chin, promised to investigate, called back the troops and promptly phoned me."

"Geez…!"

"The funny thing was that, for once, I was actually innocent - well, more or less. Not that he'd ever have believed it." He laughed softly. "You've got to hand it to him, though. He's a mad bastard, but sometimes he's really inspired."

"Lex! Planning on defrauding half a city isn't exactly admirable."

"Well, no, technically, but it's the panache you have to admire." There was a wry note of affection in his voice.

"I suppose you told him that."

"Mmh. He thought I was being insolent."

Clark placed a moist kiss on the bald scalp. "Honestly, you and your dad…"

"Great entertainment value, right?"

"Oh, yeah!" They sniggered quietly together for a moment, bumping foreheads and noses lightly. "I wonder when he's finally going to come to his senses and admit that you're really a chip off the block," Clark smiled.

Lex's stillness in his arms screamed of something wrong.

"Lex?" he queried, holding him close, concerned.

"Never." The word was said in Lex's most chilling tone.

Clark didn't want to pull back; he desperately wanted to unfreeze that note in Lex's voice. At the same time, though, he had to see his lover's face.

"Lex? What are you saying?"

There was an extended silence, then Lex sighed a little. "I forget how out of touch you've been here. My father announced his engagement last week."

Clark was pole-axed. His immediate instinct was to say, 'you're kidding', but he knew instantly that wouldn't go down at all well. Not that his alternative was a whole lot better. "Engaged? To a woman?"

Lex put his head back and gave him his driest look. "No, idiot, to a circus elephant! Yes, of course to a woman."

Clark frowned. "Not - Victoria?"

Lex gave an explosive snort of laughter. "Not likely! She was way too easy. He'd never be sure who the father really was, if she gave him a kid. No, some rich, blushing, quasi-virgin…"

"Quasi?" Clark couldn't help querying.

"She's 25. There aren't too many people who get to that age without trying it at least once," he said casually. "However, she certainly doesn't have anything like the kind of reputation Victoria - or I - had. Anyway, I presume Dad charmed her off her feet, and now he's marrying her. I'm assuming there's a bun in the oven." The acid suddenly appearing in his tone would have burned holes in titanium.

Clark tried to stop his wince from showing externally. "You think he's…"

"Breeding, to replace me?" Lex supplied bluntly. "Yes. Looks like he's finally given up on me returning to the fold."

"Lex - okay, it's not impossible, he's, what, fifty-five, -six? But, well - he'd want a boy, and that's kind of a lottery most times…"

Lex gave a snort of laughter. "Not anymore."

Clark blinked at him, then got round-eyed. "Lex - designer babies are illegal...!"

"You think that'd stop him? No, the only reason he's going to leave it to chance is that he's too arrogant to think he needs any assistance from science."

"But surely his wife..."

"If she got knocked up, it was not an accident." Lex's tone was acid-sharp again.

There wasn't much Clark could say to that, so he simply picked up the original thread. "Well, in any case, it'll be at least sixteen years before…"

"You forget the training. He'll be sure not to make the same mistakes this time."

"You're not a mistake!" Clark said passionately.

Lex's smile, though it still had a hard edge, was tender. "You're partial," he admonished lightly.

"A tad," Clark agreed promptly, "but if you want empirical evidence, I'm sure I could provide it." He gave an exasperated sigh. "For an intelligent man, he can be incredibly stupid at times."

Lex chuckled quietly. "Maybe I should let him know your opinion. He'd be pretty insulted to realize that his son's boyfriend thinks he's a dickhead!"

There was an answering chuckle from Clark. "Perhaps. On the other hand, I'm my father's son, and he certainly knows what Dad thinks of him…" He paused, smiling a little wryly. "I still can't figure out exactly what my dad's got against yours. I mean, it's so obviously personal, yet I can't see even the business with my adoption papers getting Dad worked up as badly as he does sometimes."

"You haven't asked?"

"I've tried, a couple of times. It's definite no-go territory."

"I don't know much more. Except that your dad and mine hung out together for a short time in college. Remember he told us Dad dared him into drinking too much at his first frat party?" Clark nodded. "He - Dad, I mean - went through his own phase of fucking everything that walked."

Clark pulled back, wildly startled. "What? You mean - my dad? And yours? No. No, no, you've got to be joking."

"Well, I don't know. I mean, Jonathan's a good-looking man now. At that age, he must have been the Whitney Fordman of his time. I know he was a football star. I don't see my dad resisting that kind of temptation too well, really, and he does know how to be extremely charming when he puts his mind to it."

"But I thought he was pretty ticked at you and me…"

"No, no, he's ticked because I fell for you and it's not a passing phase. I have no intention of finding myself a suitable trophy wife and producing an heir to the Luthor name. I've settled down with you. That's what he doesn't understand. He'd get it if you were just a bit on the side - God knows, he's had enough mistresses over the years. He certainly does understand what I see in you - I told you that before; you were kind of squicked at the idea."

Clark shuddered. "I still am! I'm also kind of squicked at the idea that my dad and yours…" He let his voice trail off expressively.

"Well, maybe so is your dad. At the thought he might once have… indulged," Lex added, with deep amusement.

"Ugh! Lex, will you stop messing with my head?!"

He laughed immoderately, and Clark kissed him thoroughly to stop him.

It worked.

***

Lex was finally asleep, and deeply so. It was dark in the hut, but Clark didn't need any light to watch his lover, and he felt an overwhelming urge to do so, a sensation that he shouldn't take his eyes from Lex for a minute. He put it down to their weeks apart. It was odd - he didn't think he'd missed Lex this badly while he was in Nepal. He had certainly missed him, but he had just looked forward to their reunion. Of course, that had been rather upset by returning to find Lex installed as governor of his home state, but, well, he should have known Lex wasn't going to be sitting on his hands during all that time.

This was different, though. Even though he'd been talking to Lex all through these last weeks, there was an edge to their reunion, a feeling of needing to cherish every moment, just in case. Maybe it was the circumstances, the situation, living in the ruins of Gotham City like this, seeing the devastation and misery around him all the time. Maybe he was just growing up. Life was - strange. He wondered if he had definitively lost his innocence here. He had seen so much in the seven or eight weeks he'd been in No Man's Land. He'd seen the worst of humanity, blind greed and envy, prejudice, stupidity and hatred. He saw almost every night the things Batman and his companions fought against. Yet he had also seen the best; courage and generosity, ingenuity and an indomitable spirit, like Dr. Thompkin's medical facilities - dubbed MASH by the locals - which continued to function against all odds, through all the long months of No Man's Land. There were times when the good looked small and insignificant beside the evil - but the good lasted, and the evil, mostly, faded away, forgotten and discarded.

At least, that was what Clark felt. He had faith in people - in humans. Lex, he knew, would see things the other way. At times, Lex displayed a degree of contempt for his fellow man that bordered on the terrifying. It was funny - funny peculiar, that is - that it should be the alien who thought so highly of humans, while the human valued the alien above all his own kind. Of course, that was part of the reason they worked so well together, he and Lex, they complemented each other almost perfectly; polar opposites drawn together to form a balanced whole. He never wanted to see that change. The thought of losing Lex, for any reason, just seemed to tilt the world on its axis for him, made him dizzy to the point of nausea. If it came down to it….

This was the question Nightwing - Batman, by proxy - had been asking him for weeks. If it came down to it, would Clark ever be able to choose between Lex, and others who needed his help? He wasn't so concerned about the question of influence - the balance that existed between them had already been tested, several times, and had held. Never tested to the point of destruction, not yet, but still, Clark believed it was strong. They influenced each other, yet they were independent of each other. The other thing, though…? What if he had to choose between rescuing the inhabitants of a volcanic island in full eruption, or Lex facing an assassin's bullet? Or between saving a small girl and her dog from hostile fire, or Lex from the same, where it was either one or the other and his speed couldn't save both? What was that quote? "The good of the many…"? He wouldn't know, truly, until push came to shove, and he dreaded the lesson.

The camp was waking up, he could hear the first noises - the canteen chefs and clean-up personnel getting up, always first on call. The light had altered subtly, too. It wouldn't really get light until nearly nine, but there was an attenuation of the darkness already, a faint, pearly tinge creeping in. He was aware of his own vision adjusting.

Lex slept on. Normally, on his own, he was a light sleeper, but he had always let himself relax with Clark, trusting him to keep him safe. In nearly ten years, he hadn't changed much, Clark thought, looking at him tenderly. He was a little leaner, but definitely stronger, more muscled in the torso and limbs. The once almost delicate throat had thickened a little, perhaps, like the wrists. His hands were as elegant as ever, and more striking now, in contrast with the heavier set of the body. Same with his feet, of course, but there weren't too many people who got to see his feet. Clark smiled a little to himself. Lex accused him of being a toe-fetishist, sometimes - usually after Clark had been teasing him for a while.

The other thing no one but Clark really got to see was his face in repose. When they had first become lovers, Lex never seemed to relax completely. In those days, Clark had usually slept, too - he assumed it had been part of his general adolescence; he needed to sleep because his body needed to grow and adjust. Not too much later, though, he had often found himself awake for at least part of the night, and had watched Lex, happily losing himself in contemplation of the young tycoon who had so altered his life. In those days, Lex had seemed wary even in sleep. He didn't frown, but there was this curious alertness to his expression, still, but not eased, almost watchful, though he was indeed asleep. Some time during Clark's four years in Italy, though, that had changed. Clark still remembered waking early, looking at him, and seeing the corners of the fine mouth lifted just a little, the small vertical dimples deeper than usual. He looked content. Clark hadn't just been content, he'd been ecstatic, and proceeded to kiss Lex first into wakefulness, then into enthusiastic participation. The memory still made him smile.

"What's the joke?" came the lazy question from beside him.

Lex's eyes were the merest slits, but Clark knew that was just a feint. He could take forever to drop off, even while visibly getting sleepier, but he came awake in an instant, no matter what it looked like.

"I was just remembering the first time I saw you smiling in your sleep. We were in the flat in Siena, Easter vacation, my first year. You'd just flown out from Boston, and kept me in stitches all the previous night telling me about your students and the hard time they were giving you…"

"Which, as I recall, you scoffed at thoroughly," Lex supplied, in a faintly offended tone.

"Of course I did. I've met some of them since then, Lex. They were terrified of you."

The blue-gray eyes opened fully. "They were not!"

"Were, too! Your tongue ought to be registered as a lethal weapon."

Lex opened his mouth and then shut it again, smirking broadly. Clark groaned, and prodded him.

"Stop that! You know what I meant!"

"You have a unique way with words, Kent," he taunted lightly.

"You're side-tracking me."

"You're about to get sentimental on me."

Clark gave him a reproachful look. "What, I'm not allowed? At Christmas, of all times?"

Lex sighed loudly. "Two days. It's Christmas in two days."

"Considering you just flew in a giant Vermont pine to Gotham City, you're not showing much Christmas spirit," Clark teased.

"If Christmas spirit includes getting maudlin, then no."

"It's not like you've never said a sappy thing or two to me."

"I know. If you didn't smile like an angel when I do, I'd want to shoot myself," he said dryly.

"You still smile in your sleep with me," Clark responded tenderly, tracing the line of those lips with one fingertip

"I've got plenty to smile about, usually," Lex said smugly, "last night included." He stretched languidly in the big bed. "What time is it, anyway?"

"A little before six."

"Life is stirring, right?"

Clark smiled. "Yep. Though you don't really have to move for a couple of hours yet."

"Not interested. Not without you in the bed - and you're up with the birds normally, right?"

"Well, yeah, kind of. When I've been to bed at all."

"I guess I can do that," Lex said, with a delicately martyred air. "For a few days."

Clark loomed over him in the large bed. "Don't make me tickle you. You wake up as early as I do half the time."

"At home, with an office to go to," Lex defended, amused, yet shrinking back into the bed, away from threatening fingers. "I'm on vacation here."

That set Clark back with a snorted laugh. "You do pick your vacation spots!"

Lex sat up, acknowledging the slightly black humor with a quirked eyebrow. "You have a point." He reached out for the brocade robe on the campstool, and slid out of bed. "Do you have time to show me around the rest of the city today?"

Clark watched him, appreciatively. "Some of it. There are places we really don't need to go, Lex, and don't ask me."

"Spoilsport." It was said without heat, however, as Lex disappeared into the shower.

"There are also people," Clark added, raising his voice to be heard over the running water, "that someone like the Governor of Kansas really doesn't need to meet. I'm not talking about the more obvious candidates, either, Gotham's resident psychos."

"Then whom?" Lex asked five minutes later, stepping out of the washroom.

"The Penguin. He's running a section of Upper West Side, level with the park. He also seems to be the best-connected guy in town. It's pretty sure he had a link to the outside long before there was any talk of lifting the exclusion order."

"Cobblepot's a major fence, Clark; of course he'd have a link to the exterior. Let me guess - he's been trading in all the things no one here wants anymore. Gold, jewels, fine arts, that kind of thing."

Clark blinked. It had taken Lex two seconds to put together what had taken him several hours' consideration. "Exactly. Lex - has anyone ever told you that you have a the brain of a criminal mastermind?"

He snickered a little. "Yes, as a matter of fact. Before your time. What about the Penguin?"

"Well, from what I've heard, his main, uh, weakness is that he wants to be accepted in society. He wants to be on the A-list's A-list. He'd be all over you if you went into his patch. You'd be safe enough, but I don't think he's the kind of person you want to be associated with, not unless it's absolutely necessary. He'll likely be at the Christmas party; difficult to avoid, since it's supposed to be an open party. Despite past convictions, he's currently clean - or as clean as any turf lord in Gotham could be deemed to be."

Lex nodded, his mind obviously on other things.

Clark washed at leisure - it was true the private facility was a much-appreciated luxury, after weeks of sharing facilities with the camp - and when he came out, Lex was dressed and had a big steel case set on the table. He was opening the combination lock.

"I've got something for you," he said, still concentrating on the lock.

Clark dressed speedily, and came up behind him. "You're just a little early with the Christmas presents," he pointed out, kissing Lex's nape.

"It's not a present." His voice was solemn. "I found a place."

Clark went very still for a moment, then rubbed his cheek gently against Lex's bald skull. "For the sphere?" he asked, almost inaudibly.

Lex made a slight sound of confirmation. The carrying case sprang open to reveal a rolled chart and a dull-colored box, about ten inches square by six deep, decorated with a curious row of dimples across the top. Lex put three fingers of his left hand - all but the ring finger - on the third, fifth and eighth of the dimples, and the box clicked open.

"You brought it!" Clark gasped, stepping back.

The sphere from his ship levitated silently from the custom-made form in which it sat. Clark held out a hand, and it moved swiftly, dropping neatly into his grasp. Lex had lifted the form out of the box, and was making adjustments to some piece of circuitry inside with an incredibly fine screwdriver.

"Give me your left hand," Lex ordered softly.

Still bewildered, Clark complied. Lex fanned out his fingers, then, closing the lid, pressed the same three fingers as he had used to the same dimples. There was a very faint hum, and the box locked with a distinct click.

"Okay - it's coded to your prints now. Only you can open it. Clark - are you paying attention?"

"Yes, sorry, Lex. It's like you did?"

"Try it."

Clark again pressed his fingers, in the right places, to the lid and the box opened immediately. Lex replaced the form, and Clark put the sphere back in, gently, as if it was incredibly fragile, and re-locked the box.

"How?" he asked simply.

Lex looked vaguely embarrassed. "It just seemed like the right thing to do. After I found a location - Oh, here, you'd better see for yourself." He picked up the chart and unrolled it. "It's not remotely convenient," he added wryly, "and I have no idea yet how we're going to get there without attracting a lot of unwanted attention. I just knew that having found the place, you had to know right away, and you had to have that in your possession. So I went back to the ship." He paused, the memory obviously still unsettling to him. "It recognized me. Woke up the moment I stepped inside the circle, and I could tell it knew exactly who I was."

"How did you get it to - to come with you? I didn't think it would leave the ship. Not without me, at any rate."

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/0000c628/)

 

"I had your dictionary, remember?" He was referring to the text Clark had been compiling while studying the alien language. "I told it - at least, I think I told it, and that's what it seemed to understand - that I was bringing it to you. I showed it the shielded box I'd had made," he indicated the dull box on the table, "and it just… dropped into place." He gave Clark a slanted, slightly wary look. "If I find that thing can read minds, I am not going to be happy," he warned.

Clark was sure of that. Lex detested the idea of anything messing with his extremely orderly, though convoluted brain. It was that more than any kind of boredom or fear factor that had weaned him off hard drugs relatively quickly, back in his wild days.

"There's something else I need to show you here," Lex went on. He took one of the straight-back chairs, and shifted it to a point slightly to the left of center of the hut. He got up onto it and reached up to the central support beam, feeling carefully for something. There was a faint click, and part of the side of the beam depressed and just slid aside, revealing a cavity. Clark stared, amazed.

"Geez, Lex - did you watch a lot of James Bond when you were a kid?"

"Smartass," Lex retorted. "I recall watching a lot of James Bond with you, as a matter of fact."

"Oh, yeah. So we did."

Lex was feeling around inside the space, and extracted a small rectangle of metal. He came down off the chair, and reached for the tiny screwdriver again.

"The locking principle is the same as for the box, but the scanning mechanism's a little different. You're getting the benefit of one of my latest developments, by the way." He had that particular smirk which told Clark he was especially pleased with himself.

"Which is…?"

"Haven't got a name for it yet. Transparent steel, sort of, except that it's not a ferrous compound at all. The construction implications are pretty exciting. If," and the corners of his mouth turned down a little, "we can roll it out in large sheet form, which is proving difficult at the moment. Hand," he said peremptorily.

Clark obeyed, watching him with gleaming eyes and a faintly disconsolate pout that Lex didn't notice immediately. "You couldn't have done all this last night, could you?" he sighed, sounding distinctly put out.

Lex didn't even look up, still focused. "Why? We were kind of otherwise occupied last night."

"Yes, but you know you turn me on like crazy when you go all inventorish on me," Clark complained, "and I can't do a damn thing about it right now."

That brought the bald head up. Lex laughed softly. "Sorry. I didn't think about that." He did know that Clark had a thing for his genius/geek side. "Although I think if you'd been any more turned on, I'd be dead. Ecstatically happy," he conceded, "but dead." He got up on the chair again. "You'll have to rely on touch to find it, there's a small patch of the transparent stuff, through which the sensors can scan your prints and send confirmation to the control circuits here." He was fixing the circuit into its place again, relying on the fine sensitivity of his slender fingers to guide him where he couldn't see. "Box?"

He held out a hand, downwards, expecting to have the box passed up to him. Instead, the box sort of appeared at about chin-level. He looked down from the beam.

"Clark?" he said, in an uncertain tone.

Clark was floating about four feet off the ground.

He shrugged, with a very sheepish smile. "Sorry. I just… thought about it. I mean, we knew I could levitate, right? We just didn't know how. I thought it was stupid of me to be standing down there when I could get up here and see what you were doing for myself, and then - here I am."

Lex just looked at him for a second. "Can you get down again?" he asked, very practically, when he had regained his composure.

"Uh…" He thought about it, and settled down to the ground again. "Yep," he smiled proudly.

"Let's try that again."

Clark, feeling confident, said, "Sure," - and shot up abruptly.

"Stop!" Lex shouted immediately.

He did. It was just as well; another second might have taken him straight through the roof. As it was, he was brushing it with the top of his head already.

"Good reflexes," he said to Lex, a little shakily.

Lex was looking up at him, a speculative glint in the pale eyes. "Mine or yours? You just thought 'up' this time, didn't you?"

"Something like that."

"Try being a bit more specific. Don't just think 'down' or you could go right through the floor."

Clark thought - very distinctly - about being level with Lex, and he drifted back down to the four-foot mark again.

"You know, you handle all this a lot better than I do," Clark said ruefully.

"I've got a tidier mind," Lex returned.

"You watch too much sci-fi," Clark grumbled faintly.

Lex ignored that. "Let's finish what we were doing. Can you just - stay there?"

"I think so."

"Okay. The box is made to go in here." He took the box - which Clark had been clutching carefully all this time - and slid it into the cavity in the beam. "You can feel the sensor panel just here…" He took Clark's hand and raised it to another spot a couple of inches off.

"I can see it from here."

"Okay, but I suggest you get used to the feel of it as well. You need to touch to shut as well as open, the scan controls the sliding mechanism."

"Got it."

Clark tested the set-up a couple of times, while Lex got down again. The billionaire watched him for a moment, then, experimentally, caught his ankle and pulled him a little to one side.

"Whoa…!" Clark moved. Not too far, but quite easily. "Lex! I'm not a parade balloon!"

"Sorry," Lex smiled, not in the least repentant. "I just wanted to try it. Did you move because you weren't thinking about staying in one place, or would you have moved, anyway?"

"Dunno. Try again."

This time, he did not move an iota. Lex nodded. "Come down." When Clark had his feet on the ground again, Lex studied him thoughtfully. Clark seemed half-excited and half-scared, and Lex reached up to stroke the dark hair tenderly.

"Don't look so worried. You just need to learn to multi-task a bit better. Keep one part of your mind on controlling your movements, while you do whatever else it is you need to do. Don't try it here, though. You need space, and privacy, because it looks like an imprecise thought on your part could send you straight through a roof, or a floor, and that's not something we particularly want to share, right?"

"No," Clark agreed. He suddenly wrapped his arms around Lex and buried his face against his lover's shoulder. Lex returned the embrace, petting him gently.

"It's okay, Clark," he said quietly. "It's all part of the package."

"I don't know where it's going to end," Clark whispered. "Sometimes - sometimes it just feels like I'm moving further and further away from you - from everyone here, I mean."

"Oh, no, farmboy," Lex said, his tone quite firm, even a little amused again. "I've got you firmly tethered. You're just growing up still, becoming the man you were always meant to be. I'm here to be your anchor, when you need it."

"I'll always need you."

"Then I'll always be here."

 

End Chapter Twenty-Four


	25. The Oak and the Cypress (25/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 25 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 5227  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to have happened like this. It was supposed to have been a time of renewal, a party atmosphere that lasted a whole week, until midnight on New Year's Eve. That was when the city would be reborn. Sure, things were still desperately hard and difficult in No Man's Land, but they were getting better, and this week was the hour before dawn, that hour when the light started to change, the hour when you could really see the darkness begin to fade. It was meant to be a time of hope and restoration.

Not this.

Not standing at a graveside like this.

Clark hadn't known her particularly well, he hadn't been in the city long enough, but he'd known her well enough to recognize her for one of those hearts full of courage and generosity, which brightened the dreary days of No Man's Land.

He could not stop himself from mentally replaying events over and over. Everything had seemed to be going just fine. The Grant Park party had started at sundown on Christmas Eve and was meant to go through the night well into Christmas Day. By about 10:30, the mood was good and people were having fun. Clark circulated, sociable as always. Lex - well, Lex held court. Clark had to smile. Lex didn't go to people; they came to him. He was being ultra-charming, though, so his usual, slightly peremptory ways went unnoticed.

In a manner of speaking, Lex was campaigning again. He had actually spent a good portion of the previous day in conference calls, concluding arrangements with Lucius Fox and various other Gotham businessmen and dignitaries. Gotham was going to be the first city in the United States with hardly a single gas station in its perimeter. Lex's new fuel, Ecoline, was going to rule. Of course, it wouldn't have been a proposition without the engines to go with it, but he had, naturally, thought of that, too. The cars were ready - Lex would never have considered the scheme at all if they hadn't been - and a batch of good reviews for their performance was about to appear in the specialist magazines. They would be on heavily subsidized special offer for all the inhabitants of the city. Lex's banks would see to special loan terms. The whole project was going to be sold on a strong environment-friendly basis.

It was certainly a bit radical, and there would be plenty who'd refuse to trade in their Fords, Chryslers or whatever - but there would be many others who would like the idea of a cheap, decent quality motor with very favorable financing arrangements thrown into the mix. In addition, Ecoline was going to be priced about 50¢ to the gallon cheaper than any other type of motor fuel available. Again, Clark had had to smile at the enthusiasm Lex had privately shown when anticipating the screams from his competitors. There were times when Lex really enjoyed a good knockdown, drag-out fight, in business terms. It wasn't going to be anywhere near as simple as it sounded, but Lex was single-minded when it suited him, and Clark knew he'd win. So, there they were, having fun, in their respective ways, amidst a lot of other people also having fun, and it was feeling like a very good evening.

Then the security warnings had started coming through. Camp Lex's security was very good; there was no immediate apparent change, but Clark picked up the sudden tension immediately and started listening out. The MASH had been raided; the Mission was under attack…. He went looking for the chief of security, and found him filling Lex in already.

"No," Lex was saying firmly. "Get your B team out of the party, out of bed, round them up from wherever they may be, and tell them to report to the GCPD for instructions. They're to do whatever Commissioner Gordon and his deputies tell them. You and your team, you stay here and protect the park and everyone in it, understood? Don't get distracted, don't get lured away, make sure all your call signs are up to date and all your men are clued in. You heard the warnings."

Clark had passed on Batman's message the previous day.

The mercenary commander agreed - a little reluctantly - and left them.

"Lex…" Clark began, in a low tone.

Lex already knew what he was going to say. "I'm coming with you," he said flatly.

"No!"

"Listen," he put a hand on Clark's arm and moved in close to speak as quietly as possible in the hubbub, "you can't do anything. There are far too many people around. You're too impulsive, Clark, and I'm not going to let you gamble everything on this one occasion. No matter what happens."

Clark's jaw tightened. "I swear I'll be careful. You'll be safer here."

"Will I?" Lex challenged coolly. "Here, where you won't know exactly what's going on? Or right at your side, where it'd take you a gesture so brief even I wouldn't notice it…"

"Damn it, Lex, you're not playing fair! One minute you say I can't do anything, and the next you say you're safer with me because I can?"

"You make the small gestures all the time. All around the construction sites, in the canteen - I've seen you because I'm looking for them. No one else has noticed. Whatever's going on out there," he stabbed a finger northwards, "is not small! I'm going with you."

Short of tying him up - and this was neither the time nor the place for that sort of thing - Clark knew there was little chance of stopping Lex. He was angry that Lex seemed so willing to take the risk, yet another part of him whispered that he would be glad of Lex's presence when the time came. With an exasperated sigh, he gave in, and they set off at a steady jog towards the City Hall District.

They arrived just as the bulk of GCPD forces did. They were blocked by a beat officer, along with several dozen other civilians attracted by the commotion, and Clark, training his vision on the police HQ, saw what everyone else was to hear moments later; the gun going off.

He saw it all, of course. The cold, calculated gamble, the baby falling, the woman choosing as she could only choose - the deadly shot….

"No!" Clark gasped just a moment before, as he realized what had to happen, but steel fingers clamped around his wrist suddenly.

He could have thrown the hold off easily, broken free, ignored the tacit warning - but this was Lex. He couldn't toss that aside so easily, couldn't cast off Lex's cautionary grip. As usual, Lex was right. Clark could not possibly save the woman without exposing himself, not only to the tens of dozens of people now gathered on the sidewalk, but also to the Gotham police, to any reporters hanging around; worst of all, in all probability, to the Joker, the maniac whom he ached to stop. Then - it was too late, anyway.

Here he was, then, at Lieutenant Sarah Essen-Gordon's funeral. The shock and grief of others present - family, friends and colleagues, people who had really known her - was something almost palpable, and he hated the feeling that he could maybe have prevented it. He had railed at Lex that night - early the following morning, rather - for stopping him, and Lex had just taken it in silence. He had apologized almost immediately, but there was still a slight strain between them two days later - Clark had been very harsh.

Lex was here, too, though; Clark could feel his lover's pale gaze fixed on him. Lex was standing well to one side, clearly separate from the proceedings. That was appropriate enough - he had never met Lieutenant Gordon, nor had he been personally involved in the tragedies and triumphs of No Man's Land, not even the way Clark, with his two months' experience, had. His presence simply looked like a gesture of respect. Clark knew better. Lex was here only for him, and the younger man felt embarrassed by his fit of bad temper. Lex had done the right thing under the circumstances and didn't deserve Clark's petulance in return. Clark felt more than a little ashamed of himself.

Lex was not quite as oblivious to the ceremony as Clark was supposing. For example, he was a little intrigued to see Dick Grayson right up front with the commissioner and his daughter. From the hand on Barbara Gordon's shoulder, it would appear that Grayson was maybe more than just a friend of the family these days. It would certainly explain why Dick was in Gotham at all; as far as Lex had known before the Inquisitor photograph, and speaking to Clark, he was supposed to be in the Police Academy in Blüdhaven.

That part of Lex's mind that always remained objective was curious, and perhaps more than a little impressed. Barbara Gordon was now confined to a wheelchair. She led as active a life as any disabled person could, he knew from his sources, and was, if anything, even more attractive than the last time he had encountered her, but he honestly wondered if he could ever be emotionally attached to someone actually impaired in any way. One only had to consider his own prior track record, after all. He had always sought out physical perfection, even in one-night stands. Look at who he was with now, only the most perfect physical specimen on the planet. He knew that Clark meant a great deal more to him than a spectacular body, but sometimes he wondered if he would have been quite so fiercely attracted if Clark hadn't been - still was - the most beautiful thing Lex had ever set eyes on. So Grayson's visible attachment to Barbara Gordon served to remind him only too painfully of his own faults, faults he was feeling particularly self-conscious about as a result of Clark's diatribe in the early hours of Christmas morning. He had understood quite clearly that the younger man was only lashing out from his own hurt and guilt - but he knew Lex too well, knew how to hurt him, and he had. Lex had rarely been so acutely conscious of just how diametrically opposed they could be, and that thought chilled him to the bone, worse than anything the December wind had to offer. The one consolation was that he was sure that Clark was as unhappy with the tension between them as he was, and wanted reconciliation just as fervently as Lex did.

The ceremony over, a few minutes later, Clark crossed the frost-burned lawn towards Lex, and took his arm as they left the grounds.

"Do you want me to leave?" Lex asked quietly, after several minutes.

"What?" Clark gave him a shocked look. "No. No, Lex! Why would you want to leave early?"

"That's not what I asked. I asked if you wanted me to leave. While I'm here, you can't get on with - that part of your work." He was being circumspect, out in the open. "You must want to, even more, after this. I know you think that if you'd been - further along," he was searching for the right veiled terms, "you could have done something."

Clark was shaking his head, his expression pained. "No, I don't want you to go. We've been apart so much, Lex, every minute with you is precious - even when I screw up, like Tuesday morning. Please don't go before you planned to."

"You didn't screw up Tuesday morning. I've already told you I know you were upset and frustrated."

"That's no reason to say some of the things I said to you," he said unhappily. "I'm so sorry, Lex."

Lex just moved a little closer as they walked back to Grant Park.

"Please don't leave," Clark whispered, and something almost like fear in his voice made Lex look up sharply.

"Do you think I'm mad at you?"

"Isn't that why you want to leave?"

"Clark…. I don't want to leave, and I'm not mad at you."

"You should be."

Lex was silent for a moment. "Look - yes, it hurt, and still does. Part of that is there is nobody else who knows me well enough to be able to say that kind of thing to me, and I resent it a little that you do. That I've let you." When Clark flinched, he tightened his hold on Clark's arm. "On the other hand, you've let me in just as far, and I know you're sorry, and that you really didn't mean it. That doesn't mean that there wasn't a good deal of truth in what you said."

"Lex…."

"There was. Is. I am controlling, I don't usually care much about what other people think or feel, and I do play chess with their lives, and see them as pawns. I've never denied that. I'm doing it right now, playing with whole countries, with millions of people. What hurt…" He faltered for a second, looking away briefly. "What hurt was that you might think, for one moment, that you were just another one of those people to me, because you're not, and never have been."

Clark stopped, and used his clasp on Lex's arm to tug him around gently so they were facing. "Lex, I know that. It's just that sometimes I get the impression you think people just aren't - aren't worth much, and that my desire to help them is some bizarre alien eccentricity…"

Lex's hand came up to cover Clark's mouth, and he wore a smile that was part amused, part wary. "This isn't the place for such a conversation. Let's get back to base."

Back in their hut, both men shed their heavy overcoats. Clark tossed his glasses, as he always did when they were alone, and Lex fetched some water for himself. He held a bottle up for Clark, but the younger man shook his head.

"What brought on the alien versus human speculation?" Lex asked.

Clark shrugged, a little uncomfortable. "I don't know. I was thinking about here, about everything I'd seen in Gotham City - oh, this was a few nights ago, when you first arrived. I was watching you sleep…"

"Do you do that a lot?" Lex asked curiously, part disconcerted, part pleased at the idea.

"Whenever I can."

Lex smiled a little slyly. "You should wake me up. I'm sure I'm a lot more fun awake."

He dropped elegantly into one of the big cube armchairs, and held out a hand. Clark took it, with the most relaxed smile he'd had in two days, and sat on the floor at Lex's feet, so that he could rest his head against Lex's thigh. Long fingers immediately knotted themselves familiarly in the black waves of Clark's hair.

"I won't leave early," he said quietly, and felt a good deal of tension leave Clark's body. "So - what was that about my opinions on people?"

"Sometimes you really seem to hate the whole human race."

"We're not exactly an admirable lot."

"How can you say that?"

"How can I not? You've read your history, and you see the news."

"There's so much that's so extraordinary…"

"Clark - we've had this discussion a hundred times before," he smiled a little, crookedly. "I'm a cynic, and you're an optimist. I thought we'd more or less agreed to disagree on that point. Besides, I don't hate them. You're exaggerating."

Clark turned his face up to the other man. "Do you love me because I'm an alien?"

That startled Lex considerably. "What?"

"I'm serious."

"I didn't know you were an alien at first, remember?"

"No, but you knew I was different."

"Different like I'm different, sure. I told you, I had you pegged for another Smallville mutant. No, I don't think I fell in love with you because you're an alien. I don't think I love you now because you're an alien, though it certainly makes for an interesting life. You're in a funny mood, Clark. Is this what it's going to be like every time you can't save a life? If so, we're going to have to look at therapy, because, frankly, you're going to have a hard time of it. Even with your abilities, there's no way you can possibly rescue everyone on the planet who needs it."

Lex's dry, affectionate tone was soothing to Clark, and he rested his head against Lex's leg again. "I know. I just hate the idea," he acknowledged in a melancholy tone.

"You need to come to terms with it. Otherwise, sure, you could expose yourself as the superior being you are, but then you'd find you could never go back to Kansas - speaking in the Wizard of Oz sense, you follow? Clark Kent would be gone. Also, you'd have half the world looking to kill you because you're different, and the other half there with its hand stuck out, looking for you to solve all its problems. You're still going to get that, anyway, but at least this way you'll have something to come home to. If you develop the alter ego, whatever 'Masked Man of Mystery' your crime-fighting friends are trying to help you create, you'll always have Clark Kent to fall back on. The other way spells burnout. The other way doesn't bear thinking of, as a matter of fact." He frowned a little. "I hate to imagine how you might react to that kind of extreme psychological stress."

Clark looked up again with a faint smile. "You think I'm loopy?"

"No, dummy, I think you're about the sanest person I know. I just don't like to think what might happen if you ever became loopy. Psychological imbalance and paranormal abilities do not make for a good mix, as you know perfectly well from first-hand experience."

"How do we know I'm a good person, though?" Clark asked, his tone speculative.

Lex had just taken a sip of water, and promptly spat it out. "For God's sake, farmboy, are you trying to give me a heart attack or something? What do you mean, how do we know you're a good person? Like it's not stamped all over you in neon letters!" he exclaimed, brushing the water off himself.

"No, I'm serious. We don't know anything about what kind of people I come from. Maybe they were a - a bunch of megalomaniacs, and I really am the advance guard of an invasion force…"

Lex burst out laughing. "And you say I watch too much science fiction!"

"Lex - come on, I mean it. Who knows what they were like?"

"I see we've reached the nature versus nurture argument. In your case, based on the evidence to hand, I'm definitely in favor of nurture. Clark, if you were meant to be some sort of ultimate soldier, don't you think the people who created you would have been a little more careful where they dropped you? If you had to land precisely in Smallville in 1989, I'd have thought my father was a much better candidate than yours as a suitable guardian; he was, after all, present on the occasion."

"You're still making fun of me," Clark sighed.

"Just a little," Lex ruffled his hair fondly. "No, I don't see you as the advance guard of something terrible. Really. Furthermore, you were brought up by two of the better examples of everything humanity has to offer that's worthwhile, and there's a lot of the Kents in you."

"What if that," he pointed up at the hiding place in the beam, "has the power to, I don't know, trigger latent memories, or a hidden personality, or something like that?"

"You don't have to go through with this," Lex pointed out reasonably.

"What would you do?"

"You know what I'd do."

Clark nodded. "Go for it."

"Yes, if only because I couldn't bear not knowing. However, it's your call."

That earned him a wry grin. "You'd be impossible to live with. It was bad enough back in August, when you were looking so hang-dog any time I even mentioned going off to look at the ship without you."

"I never look hang-dog," Lex objected, but when Clark's grin broadened, his lips quirked a little. "Okay, maybe I did. A little. You can ignore me this time, I promise."

Clark shook his head. "No. I do want to know, Lex, truthfully. I just can't help being a little afraid of what I might find out. The intergalactic baby-on-the-doorstep scenario seems so weird that I can't really come to terms with it. I'm half-convinced there's a higher purpose involved; then again, I don't like the way that makes me sound. Sent to Earth? It's a bit - Biblical."

"You've decided that higher purpose for yourself, Clark, or so it seems to me. Maybe it is a bit Biblical; you've decided you want to help your fellow beings. Sometimes it looks more like a compulsion, from where I'm standing," he added, a touch sardonically, "but, okay, we can work with that."

"You do think I'm loopy."

Lex just smiled at him, and he laughed back, relaxing visibly.

"You're not afraid I'm going to return a different person, then?"

"You are going to come back a different person. Knowledge does that to you. Maybe I should say you'll come back enhanced, something more than what you are when you go away. I'm not afraid of who that person will be, though. You came back a different person after your expedition, after all. Not so changed, though, that my farmboy wasn't still there - even if the first thing you did was ream me a new one, instead of telling me you'd missed me!"

"You're going to hold that against me for a while yet, aren't you?" Clark sighed.

"Do you have any idea how hard I had to work to restore my reputation with my staff? After that little scene, they all knew I was so whipped by my boyfriend."

Clark snickered a little, hiding his grin against Lex's knee. Lex mock-scowled and tugged sharply on one black curl.

"Brat."

Clark looked up again with a gleaming smile. "I love you, too, Lex."

"Oh, good, that reassures me no end. So, are we done with the alien angst for now?" He cupped Clark's chin in one hand, raised his face, and leaned forward to kiss him lightly.

Clark promptly snaked a hand behind Lex's neck, splaying fingers out along the perfect curve of the bare head, and held him in close, deepening the kiss for a minute or so, before taking pity on Lex's undoubtedly uncomfortable position.

"Speaking of masked men of mystery, do you want to see some of the costume designs?" he asked, determined to put his despondent mood aside.

Lex's eyes widened. "You've got that here? Are you nuts?!"

"Up there." He tilted his head up towards the beam with its concealed hiding place. "Honestly, Lex, you do think I'm an idiot sometimes." He stood and carefully let himself drift up to the beam, from which he extracted a thin sheaf of papers.

"Where did you get them?" Lex asked, eyes a little narrowed as he sat back in the chair again. "I don't think you had them when I got here."

"Uh, you might say, special delivery." In fact, Dick Grayson had dropped by the previous day on a social call and had slipped the papers to Clark. He knew that if Lex found that out, it wouldn't take him thirty seconds to put two and two together regarding Dick, Nightwing and Batman.

Lex did that scary thing of almost seeming to read his mind again. "You know who he is, don't you?"

"Who?" Clark did his best to look innocent. It didn't work.

"Don't do that to me. Batman, that's who. Probably any of the others you've met, too."

Clark held up a warning hand just as Lex was about to speak again. "Lex - don't. Please. Yes, I know. Not all of them, not by any means, but enough. I'm asking you not to ask me. I don't want to lie to you, but this is just not my secret to keep, don't you see that? I kind of found out by accident, it's not like they trusted me enough to tell me. Because of that, because I wanted to learn from Batman, I tried to even things out by being honest with him. He already knew that I was - special, just not how far it went, but I told him, anyway. I think that's the only reason he's helped as much as he has, or let his 'family' help me. He did ask me - he told me - not to tell you. Please don't ask me, just trust me when I say you don't need to know."

He was pleading, expression worried and anxious, and eyes wide. Lex, on the other hand, was tense and thin-lipped, anger glittering silver-bright in his pale eyes. Then, just as suddenly as the tension had appeared, it vanished. Lex closed his eyes, letting his head fall back, as if suddenly weary.

"You ask for so little," he said softly. "I think I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times you've really asked me for anything important. I can't refuse you this." He opened his eyes, and they were clear blue-gray once more. "I won't ask."

Clark grasped Lex's hands to draw him to his feet, and enveloped him in warm, grateful hug. Lex dropped his head against the broad chest and just listened to that strong heart beat for a minute or two, letting the steady pulse infuse into his very fiber and help him reorganize his thoughts and his ideas. Besides, being held like this always felt so damn good….

"Lex?" It was little more than a whisper.

Lex smiled. "No, I'm not falling asleep." He pushed himself away from Clark gently. "Costumes?"

"Right." Clark had put the drawings on the coffee table.

Lex's immediate impression was… "Bright!" he remarked instantly, frowning a little.

"Well - yeah, I guess." Clark smiled a little shyly. "I don't really see myself as a creature of the night, you know? Not like the guys here."

"Robin's isn't the most discreet of outfits," Lex commented. Along with a hundred others, he had seen Batman, Robin and Nightwing with his own eyes, outside the police headquarters when the Joker had given himself up on Christmas morning.

"You should have seen the original version," Clark said with a smile. "It's been toned down a lot."

Lex glanced at him, alert, then smiled himself, the light warming his pale gaze. It was Clark's way of saying that he would share what he could. Lex's fierce curiosity could be contained with that assurance. He turned his attention back to the sketches. The next thing that caught his eye was the symbol, which appeared on all the designs, and he touched it lightly, wondering.

"Alexander's breastplate? And this outline - this comes off the ship, right?"

"Yeah. Robin said it might be easier if they had something to work from, some kind of, well, symbol."

"You came up with this?"

"It's…" He looked at the images again. "It looks a bit more like a shield than my version did, but, yes, pretty much."

"A shield," Lex mused. "It's still a breastplate, then," he went on, with another little smile. "How fitting." He skimmed through the sketches again. "I'm not seeing a mask," he commented. "Are you sure you want to risk that?"

"Well - that's another reason the colors are so bright, see? To, um, distract the eye. The theory is that people see only what they want to see."

Lex nodded. "It's largely true, though not for the really determined, of which there are plenty." He looked up at Clark. "I suppose the counterpart to this is things like the glasses, and the slightly stooped posture, and the fumble fingers?"

Clark nodded, pleased that Lex had got the idea so easily. It had taken him a lot longer!

"You'll need to change hairstyle a bit, too. Something you can do and undo easily yourself, of course. That sort of detail can change the apparent shape of the face, and that's invaluable," Lex mused, almost to himself, as he flicked through the drawings several times over. "Well," he said eventually, a note of humor creeping back into his voice, "if you're sticking with the 'shield your eyes, I'm loud' look, I suppose I like these two best."

One was the electric blue bodysuit, with the headguard. The other was the one Clark liked best himself, with the cape and the red boots. He touched it.

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/0000dbhh/)

 

"I liked this one. I thought it was - kind of dashing."

"Dashing. Hmm. It looks like being absent-minded while dressing in the morning, to me, and putting boxers on over your pants. Well, either absent-minded or seriously hung-over, but if that's what you like…"

"Lex!" Clark had to laugh. "It just reminded me of some of those '30s adventure comic strips, you know?"

Lex's grin turned into a genuine smile, and he gave Clark a very fond look. "The Age of Innocence," he said softly. "Yes. I see. That's - appropriate for you, Clark. You see innocence in this world."

Clark reached out and cupped Lex's head lovingly, fingers sliding smoothly over warm, bare skin. "There is innocence in this world, Lex. When you put it that way, I think it's that I want to protect, more than anything else. Innocence means hope, and hope is the greatest gift of all."

Lex resisted Clark's pull, just fractionally, his eyes intent on the younger man's face. "Not love?" he asked softly. "I thought you'd have picked love as the greatest gift."

"That would be nice - but hope is something much simpler, much more fundamental. It doesn't mean the same thing to everyone, but the effects end up being pretty much the same. Hope is the lifeblood of the soul, it keeps it alive. That's worth protecting, because the human soul, that's an amazing and wonderful thing."

There was an odd, pained light in Lex's eyes. "I forgot what innocence was a long time ago."

"No, you didn't, Lex," Clark smiled sweetly. "You just forget what it looks like sometimes. I see it still. I saw it five days ago when you flew a giant Christmas tree into town, for example."

Lex's lips quirked. "I thought you called me a shameless exhibitionist." He didn't resist Clark's gentle tug this time.

"I did. I could show you a few three-year-olds who are also shameless exhibitionists, though."

Lex laughed a little, and laid his head on Clark's shoulder. "You do serious damage to my ego, Kent."

"Your ego's big enough, it can stand a little bashing," Clark grinned.

Lex didn't dignify that with an answer, just enjoyed the warmth of Clark's embrace. His gaze returned to the sketches on the tabletop, and he reached out idly to finger the one Clark admitted to preferring.

"You okay with that?" Clark asked, noticing the gesture.

"I'm okay with whatever you choose, Clark, it's your uniform. Though…"

"Yes?"

"If I ever catch you striking a pose, arm extended, and declaiming, 'To infinity and beyond!', I will hurt you!"

 

End Chapter Twenty-Five


	26. The Oak and the Cypress (26/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 26 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 5859  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

Flying was just too cool!

Flying turned out to be the most amazing thing imaginable. Clark had always thought it might be kind of special, right from the first time he'd realized that levitating while sleeping might just mean he'd be able to fly one day, but the reality was so much better!

Clark had informed Dick of the latest development in his abilities as soon as he had resumed 'training' after the New Year. It had, however, taken a little while to find a safe place for them to work on his technique. Gotham - both city and county - was swarming with construction crews, media and the returning population. Furthermore, unless a good excuse could be found, Dick's continued absence from the Blüdhaven Police Academy was going to be noticed very soon, yet he still wasn't quite fit enough to resume normal training. Nightwing's body armor permitted him to exert himself physically quite a bit more than ordinary academy training gear did, and the after-effects of the cracked ribs would be immediately visible to the police instructors.

Oracle came up with the answers, on all counts. Clark was developing a healthy respect for the mysterious woman's ingenuity. Regarding Dick's absence, he was provided with a faked skiing accident in Canada, severe enough to keep him on his back for at least another month, complete with all the necessary medical documentation required to satisfy the Police Academy. That freed him to leave Gotham for a vast private estate in North Dakota, the next part of Oracle's plan. Clark turned over the management of Camp Lex to the Carters, as he had planned to do, anyway, removed his possessions from the beam hiding-place, and took the train to join Dick in North Dakota.

The estate belonged to someone whose name Clark knew only vaguely.

_"Ted Kord?"_ Lex repeated, when they were talking on the phone the night of Clark's arrival. _"Sure, I know him. Well, slightly. He's a brilliant electronics engineer. Half those spy gizmos you tease me about have come from his firm."_ There was a little chuckle. _"I see your friends are sort of keeping it in the family."_

"What do you mean?"

_"Kord used to be a crimefighter. He invented a lot of his gadgets specifically to help him in that line. He had a secret identity for a while, but about five years ago he developed a heart problem and had to drop the extra-curricular activities. When he hung up the mask, he 'came out,' so to speak, to the world. He's still consulted by the main law enforcement agencies and, of course, the publicity was a terrific boost to his electronics business."_

Clark knew that none of the "Bat-family" would ever reveal his identity or his abilities to a third party without his express permission. He still found it interesting that they had actually looked for assistance to another member of what was starting to look like one big masked confraternity. He said as much to Dick over breakfast the next morning.

"Bruce hates the idea," the other man smiled wryly. "He's a real loner, doesn't like depending on anyone at all for help. On the other hand, there's Oracle, who's, like, Information Central for all of us, so she never thinks twice about matching needs with supplies. Don't think we're all this big, happy family; we're not. I can think of a couple of people I have absolutely no time for. We're all on the same side, though, so if it really comes down to the wire, we're all pulling in the same direction."

"Do you - I mean, is it possible to make friends?" Clark asked curiously.

"Of course!" Dick laughed. "When I was fourteen, a bunch of us sidekicks got together to work as a team - and probably to bitch about our mentors as well. I found my first real, personal friends there, my first girlfriend, too. It was great. We went through a lot, but most of the ties formed then have held, and it's been a real source of strength for me. For example, the others gang up on me regularly to make sure I don't turn into the Bat," he grinned, a little crookedly.

Clark smiled. It was hard to imagine this relaxed, easy-going, young man becoming anything like as darkly focused as Batman, but he had seen Nightwing in action - however limited - and there was not such a great difference between mentor and student as all that.

The flying lessons started that day.

Clark was not too sure exactly what Dick could actually teach him about something he couldn't do himself, but Dick admonished him sharply.

"Don't be so cocky. I fly. Sure, I use gravity instead of ignoring it, but I do know what it's like to be free of it, however briefly."

He buckled a light harness across Clark's chest, and a matching one across his own, then took Clark's watch off and replaced it with a more complicated-looking timepiece.

"This is resistant to both pressure and vacuum. Here's how you set the stop-watch." He demonstrated. "Now, you told me that if you thought 'up' strongly - let's call it 'loudly' - you just zoomed up. On my signal, I want you to do just that. I want you to pay very close attention to what's happening around you. Temperature, pressure, oxygen levels - I know you can't actually feel them, but you've got to be aware of them all the same, and able to assess them. In eight minutes, you'll get a warning buzzer. At that point, you have to stop, no matter what, and come straight back down again. I've gauged your lung capacity; you can hold without even thinking about it for over forty minutes, on the merest mouthful. However, I'm not risking getting you caught in outer space with no oxygen reserves."

The harnesses turned out to be for attaching the two of them securely together. Dick used that to teach Clark where normal human limits lay - where an oxygen mask became essential, where pressure of high-speed travel became too great, where the vacuum of space prevented an unsuited human from existing. Putting himself at risk ensured that Clark paid extra special attention. The lessons went well and fast, and, oh, yes, flying was fun!

Landing, though…. Well, landing was a different matter. Landing looked like something out of a Buster Keaton film. Dick evidently thought so, too, since he laughed himself silly on numerous occasions. Clark landed so heavily, he sometimes ended up buried to the neck in the soil. After a couple of days of that, Dick taught him the acrobat's tuck-and-roll technique, but for a while still, all that did was make Clark bounce and roll like a giant ball of tumbleweed, which in turn only made Dick laugh harder. Clark hadn't felt like this much of a helpless lump since his high school days. It didn't help that Lex, whom he phoned regularly to share his days, was evidently just as entertained as Dick.

"I'm looking for a little sympathy here," Clark complained hotly to the older man.

_"I know, I'm sorry,"_ Lex said earnestly, _"it's just…. He's not filming this, is he?"_ There was a little note in his voice that told Clark he was all too eager to view the farce.

"No, he's not!" Clark sulked. He could swear that he could see Lex's grin right there and then.

Still, the flying lessons were paying off. Clark learned to sense the normal barriers - speed, pressure, temperature - despite his impervious skin, and he learned to land and take off swiftly and gracefully. That left some more practical considerations, which Dick brought up over shared meals.

"You need to pay attention to tracking systems," he pointed out. "Once you're in uniform, that won't be a problem, it's just part of the package, but if you ever need to get from A to B incognito, you need to know where the radar limits lie, and where the tracking satellites are going to have their windows. You may move too fast for the human eye to see, but that doesn't mean you can't be recorded, and the satellites in particular are designed for precisely that sort of thing. Your biggest advantage there will be that you're organic, not mechanical, and they're meant to be looking out for things like warheads and such."

Clark groaned at the prospect of having to remember that kind of detail. "How do you do this, day in, day out?" he asked. "All this information you've got memorized, I mean."

"Lots of practice," Dick smiled. It was his usual answer to that sort of question. "The other thing you'll have to watch in civvies is your speed. Break the sound barrier too near habitations and you leave a trail of shattered glass behind you. That's not exactly discreet. I'd imagine that it would also be pretty unpopular, whether you're in uniform or not. Eventually," he added, "you should be able to call on Oracle for that kind of information. At the moment, though - well, you've still got to prove yourself. Not to Bruce - don't worry too much about him, nothing you do is ever going to be quite right, believe me. You need to find your - your niche, though. Where are you going to be based? You can't work out of Smallville; you'd be made in no time at all. You also can't follow Lex too closely, that'd be just as revealing."

"Metropolis, then," Clark said simply, and smiled faintly. "I suppose 5 million's enough to get lost in, isn't it?"

"Should be," Dick returned, with an answering grin. "I certainly don't think crimefighting there is going to be a walk in the park." He paused. "Just how ready do you think you are?"

"I'm not. There are still things I need to discover about myself," he admitted.

Dick nodded. "That's my impression, too. There's something a little - unfinished about you. You've got a source, though, right? You mentioned a ship?"

"Possibly." Clark didn't really want to discuss that too much. "What do you mean by unfinished?"

The other man thought about his answer. "You remind me of a kind of amnesiac. Somebody with a big chunk of memory missing, who's managing perfectly well to live a regular life, but who's still lacking something essential to his identity." He smiled a bit apologetically. "Sorry. That sounds kind of silly, put like that; you know perfectly well who you are…"

"No, you're right, I know nothing of my origins."

Dick gave him an odd look. "You sound a little worried. Are you afraid of finding out?"

"A little," Clark admitted reluctantly.

"I don't see how it's going to change anything of what you already are, Clark. Whatever you find out, it's just information. It doesn't need to change you if you don't want it to."

Clark hadn't mentioned his dreams.

Apart from a period during which he'd been haunted by Cassandra's visions, and the erotic fantasies that had disturbed him in the early months of his friendship with Lex and which had ended as soon as the fantasies had become reality, Clark didn't dream. He didn't sleep much, either, but when he did, it was deep, still and quiet, untroubled. That was the normal state of affairs. Lately, however, he had been sleeping more than usual. He put that down to the exertion, mental and physical, of learning how to fly properly, or at least that was his official excuse. Secretly, some part of him wondered if it wasn't something to do with the fact that he had taken to, well, communing with the orb recently.

Every night, for a few minutes just before going to bed, he'd take the sphere from its box and study it curiously. It always glowed in his presence, but there were no more beams of light, or projected images. In his sleep, though, Clark found himself revisiting the scenes of those visions with a terrifyingly vivid sense of realism.

Not long after Clark's first - and, to date, only - encounter with his ship, Lex had found the time to sit him down and work through the images the ship's intelligence had imprinted on his brain. Although Clark did have total recall, it took more mental discipline than he was used to exercising, and only Lex's persistence had enabled Clark to actually evoke the images clearly and in the correct order. By that time, it had turned into more of a narrative exercise than anything else, or maybe a kind of mental jigsaw puzzle. They were, at any rate, only images with none of the sensation Clark had initially felt attached to them. They were also still sketchy, without explanation, and Clark and Lex had had to concoct their own explanation for what they represented.

This, however, was something completely different. This was a technicolor, surround-sound, 3-D cinemascope spectacular, and Clark, whose closest experience to actual nightmares had been Cassandra's visions, woke up sweating, his heart pounding. It was as disconcerting as it was unpleasant, and Clark had no explanation for it. In addition to that, however, he was also getting a weird sensation during the dreams, a kind of peculiar magnetic tug that sometimes felt almost physical, and was rapidly turning into the equivalent of a nagging toothache.

Well, there was only one person who could help him with this sort of problem. He would do a little practical work on passing unnoticed under radars and through built-up areas, and go visit Lex.

* * *

Lex woke instantly, feeling the mattress dip behind him, and reached out for the alarm, but a large hand covered his own gently, and full lips kissed him precisely on that sensitive spot beneath his ear.

"Shh," a familiar voice murmured, "it's only me."

Lex relaxed against the big form, aware suddenly of bare skin against his own. "Clark?"

"You'd better not be expecting anyone else," Clark growled softly.

"I wasn't even expecting you…."

He wanted to go on, ask questions like how, and why, but Clark's mouth was soft and hot against his throat, and Clark's hands were large and warm on his body, and there was nobody on earth who could just switch his higher reasoning functions off as quickly as his farmboy could. He stretched luxuriously, rubbing against Clark with feline grace and tilting his head back for a real kiss. Clark's lips found his, and then the younger man slid over Lex's body, going for maximum contact in the move, so that they lay face to face. Lex tangled his fingers in the black locks and kissed Clark hungrily, a hunger matched and returned by his lover.

Lex could never get enough of that wide, hot mouth. Its taste was maybe familiar by now, but it was still the sweetest thing in all creation and Lex was completely addicted to it. Not to mention that Clark was doing that trick he'd developed lately, sort of 'walking' his knuckles up and down Lex's spine. That sent sparks fizzing all the way through Lex's nervous system; it made him purr like a cat and tighten his hold on Clark possessively. Lex knew that Clark liked to hear him purr, since he lost no opportunity to induce the effect.

Lex abandoned his excavation of Clark's oral cavity - to the younger man's vociferous objections - in order to push him to his back and straddle him. He gazed down at his lover, feasting his silver-blue gaze on the glorious sight beneath him. Clark lay spread out like a sensual banquet, his black hair in disarray, his skin flushed, his mouth red and full, his nipples stiff. Lex reached down to finger the taut nubs idly, and Clark arched into that casually seductive touch eagerly.

"Get on with it, Lex!" he gasped, impatient.

Lex wriggled back a little so that Clark's hard cock nestled in the crack of his ass. Clark moaned at the snug fit.

"What do you want?" Lex asked huskily, his smile wicked.

"Anything!"

Lex stroked a thumb across the full, red mouth softly. "Words, farmboy, words."

"God - anything, Lex! Suck me, fuck me - just do me! Please!"

"You beg so prettily," Lex smirked.

He sat above him a little longer, teasing Clark's sensitive nipples, enjoying the glide of the hard, weeping shaft in his cleft, relishing the state to which he was reducing his handsome, young lover while he decided what he was going to do with this beautiful, eager partner. Making up his mind finally, he slid forward a little, then shifted up to straddle Clark in the opposite direction. Clark's hands grasped his hips immediately; he clearly got the general idea. Lex let himself be pulled back, and extended himself down over Clark's strong frame to contemplate the thick red shaft that presented itself so temptingly to him. He bent his head to lap at the fleshy pole, and Clark bucked a little.

"It's not a lollipop, Lex!" he ground out, his voice cracking.

Lex chuckled, wrapped his mouth around the plum-shaped head and sucked hard, then let it slide from his mouth with an audible pop.

"Really?" he said, his tone sultry. "Could have fooled me."

"Oh, God…" Clark whimpered. "You know…."

Lex decided he was still too lucid, and stroked the exposed vein on the underside of his cock lightly. Clark sort of squeaked, and Lex felt the strong hands clamp down on his hips again. He would have a lovely set of fingerprints there in the morning.

A little to his surprise, though, Clark was still capable of stringing a sentence together more or less coherently.

"You know," he resumed, though his voice was unsteady, "your deprived childhood," he swallowed audibly as Lex stroked a light finger up his length, "sometimes shows up," he gasped as the touch intensified, "in the oddest - oh!" Lex teased his balls a little, even as he licked again at the head of Clark's cock, "ways - Jesus, Lex!"

Lex had swallowed him down to the root.

He was ready for Clark's reaction, pulling back immediately to avoid getting choked, and then plunging down again, with a little chuckle that vibrated all through Clark's body and made him moan delightfully. That was music to Lex's ears, so he did it again, with equally satisfactory results. Finally, he felt Clark's mouth close greedily over his own achingly hard cock.

For all Clark's earlier impatience, it turned into a long, slow, delicious suck. It was the most exquisite kind of short-circuit. Clark's mouth on Lex echoed his own on Clark, and the pleasure rocked back and forth through them in a continuous feedback loop which melded them into one seething mass of arousal, steadily spiraling towards climax. Clark was happy now to savor Lex's hot flesh and tangy pre-come, and to be savored himself, and he had absorbed Lex's lessons in deferred gratification well over the years. They took each other to the edge, and pulled back, time and again, until there was only one way to go - right over, and orgasm struck like lightning, convulsing them both in all too fleeting ecstasy.

In the hazy aftermath, Lex was vaguely aware of being moved, and cleaned off, and then feeling Clark against him, but the pleasure had been too sharply intense for Lex to do anything other than succumb to sleep. He stroked a possessive hand over Clark's smooth flank, and let himself slide back into sleep, relishing the weight and heat of Clark's bare body in his arms.

* * *

In the morning, he was alone.

He lay still for a minute, disconcerted. He knew he hadn't been alone during the night. There was the indentation in the other pillow, not to mention the sated lassitude of his body, and yet there had been something curiously dreamlike about the whole thing. He slid out of bed and padded across the room to inspect his naked body in the cheval glass. No, it definitely hadn't been a dream, there were the fingerprints all right, decorating his hips like a subtle brand. He contemplated his reflection, and that of the room behind him, for a long moment, his lips thinning a little in displeasure. He collected his quilted satin robe, wrapping himself against the morning chill, and then picked up his cell and dialed Clark's phone. There was no answer, just the voice-mail message.

He tried again several hours later, and got an overly-bright Clark who hardly let him get a word in edgeways. Lex listened to the too-rapid delivery with a hard, speculative glimmer in his eyes that Clark would have known spelled danger could he have seen it, and refrained from asking the questions he wanted to ask. This wasn't going to work long-distance.

* * *

That night, preparing for bed, Lex hesitated a moment, then arranged a pillow under the quilt to look approximately like a sleeping body - it wouldn't fool anyone for long, but that wasn't his intention - and settled himself in the wing-back armchair across the room, waiting patiently. In the dark, he brooded a little, thinking about the previous night. In his wilder flights of fancy, Lex sometimes wondered if having sex with an alien had actually, physiologically, changed him in some way, because there were things about himself that had changed so profoundly he still wasn't quite sure what had happened.

Take the whole concept of fidelity. Fidelity hadn't meant a lot to Lex, and even after he had realized he was in love with Clark, he had not been sure he would be able to give Clark the exclusive attention he knew the younger man would expect. Lex was accustomed to being very active sexually. He had always enjoyed it, and he had known he was facing long periods of enforced celibacy, if Clark was to be his only partner. In the end, though, it had turned out to be almost ridiculously easy - he simply didn't want anyone else, and that was as true now as it had been ten years earlier.

He could window-shop still, appreciate physical beauty in men or women around him, but the sense of attraction simply wasn't there. He only had to think of Clark, however, even in the most innocent of terms, giving Lex one of his bashful looks through long, thick eyelashes, to react immediately. That reassured him that his libido was functioning perfectly well - it had just developed tunnel vision. However, there it was; something that had pretty well been a completely foreign concept to him had, within a matter of months, become as natural as breathing, and sometimes he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around it in any kind of objective manner. He knew Clark had changed him, he just couldn't help wondering if the change wasn't a little more radical than simply resetting his moral compass. Most of the time, Lex avoided such thoughts, they unsettled him, and if he was being completely honest with himself, he was maybe a little afraid of ever finding out, one way or another.

Clark arrived around two a.m. Although the room was dark, Lex had good night-vision, and he had left the curtains open. Clark's silhouette was too familiar to mistake. He watched as Clark entered silently and approached the bed. He could not make out the expression on the younger man's face, but the movement and posture spoke of some hesitation. Clark reached out, as if to shake the sleeping figure's shoulder, but then pulled back, and after another brief hesitation began to remove his jacket.

"Don't bother undressing," Lex said coolly, reaching up to snap on the standard lamp by his chair.

Clark's head came up with a start. "Lex…" The name came out on a sigh, with something that sounded curiously like relief in his tone.

Lex didn't let himself respond to that just yet. "If you're planning on another hit and run like last night, I'm going to be seriously angry with you."

Clark sank down on the edge of the bed, shoulders bowed, elbows on knees, hands falling between his legs. He looked guilty, and a little depressed. "I'm sorry," he sighed again. "It's not what I intended."

"I didn't think you'd flown thousands of miles just for a quick fuck." When he saw Clark wince, he relented a little. "Look, Clark, you know I'm always glad to see you, and God knows, I've no objections to being seduced in my sleep. It was waking up alone in the morning I objected to, not to mention being given the run-around on the phone this afternoon. You've got other ways of letting me know you can't talk than babbling like that. So why don't you just tell me what's wrong now?"

"I meant to yesterday, I really did. But when I got into bed I felt… safe again…."

"Safe!" Lex was out of his seat and at Clark's side in an instant. "Clark…"

"No, not like that," Clark said quickly, looking up and taking Lex's hands in his own reassuringly. "I'm not being threatened, or anything like that. I think I could handle that better. No, it's something else: I'm dreaming."

Lex sat down again, beside his lover. "You don't dream. You barely sleep, but even when you do, you don't dream."

"I am now. Or at least I'm reliving the visions I got the first time."

"We worked through those, I thought."

"It's not the same, Lex. That was - that was just like describing some photographs. I didn't feel anything. This is different - I can hear and smell and touch things. I still don't understand what's going on properly, but it's real, like I'm living it. I can understand more of what's being said, too."

"Living it how?" Lex asked, with intense interest. "As yourself, or as if you were someone else?"

"Someone else, mostly. Sometimes I seem to be making some sort of presentation to a lot of hostile-looking people - that's the bit I really can't translate at all yet. Then there's kind of a feeling of being swept up in a sort of mass panic, and I feel kind of nauseous then, but I don't think I'm actually sick. I mean, I don't think the person I'm being is actually sick. Jesus, Lex, this sounds so weird when I actually talk about it!" He sighed explosively.

"No more weird than the first time around," Lex countered with a faint smile. "It sounds like your connection with the sphere has intensified. Are you getting anything else other than repeats of the visions?"

Clark nodded slightly. "It's that tugging feeling again, like the first time I matched the missing piece to the ship. Remember I said it felt kind of magnetic? I'm getting that again, but it's pulling on me."

"Pulling you where?"

He shrugged. "I don't really know. North, I think."

"That damn thing can read minds," Lex muttered under his breath.

"If it could read minds, don't you think it'd leave me in peace? Because I'm not exactly happy about this," Clark suggested, a little ironically.

"It's an artificial intelligence, Clark. It's got a program to carry out, and you're 'It'. It's got plans for you, and thinks you're ready for it now." He spread his hands, a little helplessly. "I think you have to go with the flow here. You need to know and understand; it's as simple as that. It may have other things to offer you, too, who knows? When you get down to it, it's your servant, Clark, it's just a tool for you to use. No matter how sophisticated and advanced the technology may be, it was still designed for you, no matter what. It may be able to communicate with you on some sort of psychic level, but it remains an object, and you have a living brain - free will, self-determination, lateral thinking and all the kinds of things no machine is ever quite going to get the hang of. No matter what, you're its master; you have to remember that and, above all, believe it."

"Believe it," Clark repeated, in a somewhat depressed tone. "Right."

"Clark…"

The younger man looked up with a small smile. "No, it's okay, Lex. I know I can do that. I guess I'm back to wishing I was normal, right now."

"Then you'd have missed out on the flying," he smiled back, "and you've found that so much fun. You do know I'm green with envy, right?"

Clark chuckled slightly, shaking his head at the same time. "You're so cool with all this alien stuff. I sometimes think you're the one who should have had all the special abilities…"

"Good God, what a catastrophe that would be!" he exclaimed in genuine horror. "Think about it, Clark. Me, with your powers? I would have ruled the world before I was 30, and it wouldn't be a very nice place at all."

Clark looked at him appraisingly and nodded slowly. "I guess you're right there. You've always liked doing things just because you could. If you could do anything…."

"That's why I've got you to keep me in line," he smirked slightly, then nudged him gently. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Clark's eyes widened. "I thought you didn't want…"

"I said I didn't want a repeat of last night," Lex interrupted him calmly, "not that I didn't want to sleep with you. If you'll just wake me up before you leave this time, it'll be fine."

Clark slid his arms around Lex's waist and laid his dark head on his shoulder. "I'm really sorry about this morning," he said contritely. "I didn't mean it to be a - a hit and run."

Lex stroked the black hair soothingly. "I know. You're not that inconsiderate. I was just a little annoyed that you weren't there when I woke up."

"You were sleeping so peacefully. You really want me always to wake you up anytime I have to leave early?"

"Yes. I can always go back to sleep again if I really need to, after all." He kissed Clark's temple. "You're forgiven, farmboy. Or you will be," he added, in a different tone, "when you're stripped and in bed."

Lex had known what was going to happen the moment he said the words, but the speed of it still took his breath away. Between one heartbeat and the next, or so it seemed, Clark was all bare golden skin, spread out wantonly on the bed, the very essence of eager expectation. Lex could not have prevented his predatory look if he'd wanted to, but he didn't because he could see the effect it had on Clark. Although he was just as eager as his lover, he took his time with his own minor preparations - turning off the standard lamp, hanging up his robe, slipping off the black satin pajama bottoms - before sliding into Clark's waiting arms.

"Maybe I should start calling you flyboy?" he mused reflectively as they settled into a comfortable position that let hands rove freely over smooth skin.

"I like farmboy," Clark stated firmly.

"Okay," Lex said amiably, hiding a smile. "Next question, then - when are you going to make me a member of the real Mile High Club?"

"Wha - ? Lex!"

Lex didn't need to see Clark's blush, he could feel it. They were, of course, both members - Lex had almost forgotten when he had been introduced, and as for Clark, that had been part of his 17th birthday "present". Right now, he could sense Clark's imagination working overtime; the younger man had his face buried against Lex's shoulder and his cheeks were hot against Lex's cool skin. Eventually, though, there was a rather regretful sigh.

"It's a great idea," Clark said wistfully, "but it wouldn't work."

"You're telling me you couldn't fly us both up there and keep us there?" Lex smiled.

"I've got no idea what it'd do to my concentration in the first place," he admitted, with a little chuckle, "but the problem's simpler than that. You'd freeze to death."

"Ah - I hadn't considered that," Lex agreed. He thought about it a little, hands idly stroking the long, sweet lines of Clark's frame. "We could maybe use some kind of thermal covering - sort of like a sleeping bag for two?"

The absurdity of the image struck both lovers at the same time and they collapsed into giggles like teenagers.

"Oh, yeah," Clark gasped, "this big silver sausage humping around in mid-air? Nice one, Lex."

"I've never said all my ideas were good ones," Lex defended, laughing.

"Are you sure about that?" Clark teased. "I seem to recall the odd declaration of infallibility from you."

"A likely story. I've blown too many experiments up - in labs, fortunately - to believe that I'm infallible. On the other hand, I've got a good idea right now."

There was no need to spell it out to Clark.

* * *

He was being kissed awake, very lightly and very softly. Soft lips tugged gently at his own, coaxing him to respond, which he did willingly enough. He raised his face to a better angle, put his arms around Clark's broad shoulders - and felt cloth, not the bare skin he had idly expected.

He opened his eyes abruptly, to look directly into Clark's bright blue gaze as the younger man leaned over him. Clark stroked his cheek and brushed his fingertips across Lex's mouth, his own expression wistful.

"You're so beautiful when you sleep," he said quietly. "I know it's something no one else sees but me, and I just want to hold you close forever. I promised to wake you, though…"

"You're going North," Lex whispered, "not just back to Dakota."

"I think it's time. I need to get this over with, otherwise I don't think I can move on. I need to let Nightwing know, and pick up the box, but then I'll be on my way."

Lex nodded solemnly. "How long do you think it'll take you?"

"To get there? I don't know. Maybe a week? I can't risk moving too fast yet or I'll be seen. After that, your guess is as good as mine."

Lex stroked through his black hair lovingly. "You'll come back to me?"

"You have to ask?"

"Just checking." He smiled a little.

"You said once you could let me go because you knew I'd always come back. That hasn't changed, Lex, and it never will. I expect you to be here when I get back, though." It was said lightly enough, but there was a note in his voice Lex recognized as underlying anxiety.

"Right here?" He opted to tease slightly. "That could be a little hard to arrange."

Clark grinned and kissed him slowly. "I know, but thanks for the image."

Lex's kiss was considerably less leisurely, and Clark felt a little winded when Lex eventually released him - an illusion, but a very agreeable one.

"Go," Lex said hoarsely, "before I try to change your mind."

He closed his eyes fleetingly, felt the brush of lips over his scalp and a slight breeze on his skin, and when he opened them again, he was alone.

 

**End Chapter Twenty-Six**


	27. The Oak and the Cypress (27/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 27 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 6394  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

February, 2012

The ringing of the bedside phone dragged him from sleep. It was still dark outside.

"Yes," he said, a little surly.

_"Sir, it's Carnbee, at reception,"_ came the apologetic voice. _"I'm sorry to disturb you this early, but I've got a Pete Acton on the phone who's adamant about speaking to you personally. I've been trying to put him off at least until normal office hours, but he just insists that it's very urgent."_

Lex woke up fully. "Put him on."

Acton was the lessee of the area in which the underground hangar where they had stored the ship was located.

"Mr. Acton? What's the matter?"

_"Mr. Luthor, sir, you know you said to get in touch with you if I noticed anything strange about that there field with the bunker?"_

"What have you seen?" Lex demanded abruptly.

_"Well, I was out early to put up new fencing on the south field, and driving past the grazing field, and, well, there's this great hole in the middle of it. You can see right down into the bunker and all."_

"Is there much damage?"

_"Hardly none. More like someone took a giant cookie cutter to the place, punched clean through. I can't see no tire marks or any sign of heavy vehicles that might have come by in the night."_

Lex was thinking fast. "What chances are there that anyone else might have seen this yet?"

_"Ah - "_ The farmer was obviously thinking this over, too. _"Well, it's at the end of my lands, and there's no one but me been down there this morning. There's the wood on the other side, maybe some campers there, but it's a mite early in the year, too cold yet, and I haven't heard tell of any vacationers so far. I reckon there's just me, for the moment."_

"I'd like to keep it that way. Can you keep your own employees away from the site? I'll have a team down there within the hour to investigate."

_"Sure, I can do that."_

"My people will make sure it's safe, and patch things up. I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Acton. We'll get things back to normal as quickly as possible. Thank you for calling me so promptly."

_"No problem, Mr. Luthor."_

Lex hung up and reached for his cell phone, flicking through the directory until he found the number he wanted. The voice at the other end sounded as sleepy as he had a few minutes earlier.

_"Corbett."_

"Lex Luthor here. There's been a problem at Area 23. I want a containment team down there within the hour. Check for radiation and any other signatures, and for any other kind of contamination. I want the roof of the hangar restored, and the ground above re-laid. Cordon off the field, and get in touch with Althrop's, tell them we've found a test area for the new grass seed. They've been looking for that for a couple of weeks now. Let them handle the rest of it, and deal with Acton. I don't want to hear a whisper of this anywhere, do you understand me?"

_"Yes, sir."_

"I expect to hear from you by the end of the morning."

_"Yes, sir."_

Lex disconnected, and set the cell back down. For a long moment, he just sat there, staring into nothingness, then he sighed and ran a hand over his smooth scalp.

"So the baby carriage has gone for a ride," he murmured to himself, with a faint, wry smile. "Good luck, farmboy."

\+ + + + +

Antares

At first it was just blackness, silent and cold, then pinpoint lights became discernible, and he was moving towards them. He didn't know how, he wasn't even sure he existed in any corporeal state. It felt more like he was some sort of disembodied presence, being drifted along on solar winds. It wasn't as random as that, however. One point of light began to grow brighter and brighter, until he was looking at a great red sun, many times bigger than the only other sun he knew. Around it, spreading for millions of miles into the distance, dust and other matter swarmed into the sun's sphere of influence, eddying, clustering and colliding. A dizzying ballet that he knew was taking place over billions of years played out in front of him in a matter of minutes. Then, too, the red sun threw out great globules of fiery matter, to join in the mix. Within minutes, a system was born, planets and moons circling around the giant sun.

It was like watching an orrery now, seeing the play of movement around the sun, and that of the moons around the planets. They were changing, too. Some did not survive long, and fell apart in flames and explosions, but all were silent in the vacuum of space. Affected by the shifts in gravitational forces, others changed colors, their atmospheres altered. Now his position shifted again; he was being drawn through the system toward the outer limit, where the largest planet of all seemed to await him. It was a jewel in the darkness, a green topaz, translucent and beautiful, darker masses shifting and taking shape over its surface, and above that, great, whipping cloud movements, indicative of immensely turbulent wind patterns. Slowly, the activity steadied, the clouds slowed into quieter patterns, only sometimes scudding ferociously around as in the beginning, the land acquired more distinctive shapes.

There were two huge continental landmasses in each hemisphere. On the eastern side, there were two other continents, one a long, narrow shape like a skewed nail, the other a misshapen block attached to the main continent by a narrow strip of land. There were also several large islands, on either side, plus significant polar caps to the north and south. Metals boiled below the crust, rather than rock, giving the waters strange mineral properties and creating a crushingly heavy gravitational field. In the skies, at first, four moons danced, but as time passed, one just seemed to drift further and further away, until it left orbit altogether and spun out into space.

\+ + + + +

April, 2012

_"Sir?"_

"Yes, Jay?"

_"It's your father."_

Lex closed his eyes fleetingly, then smiled wryly, and nodded. "Put him through."

_"Lex, my boy!"_

"Dad, when you get exuberant on me like that, I get worried," Lex said dryly. "What can I do for you?"

_"Congratulate me."_

"Sure. What for?" he asked blandly.

_"You might show a little more interest."_

"I can't imagine why. I shouldn't be talking to you - you fucked up some of my plans royally last month."

_"I know."_ His tone was unrepentantly smug. _"I really don't know what you were doing wasting your time down there, anyway, but it was going to cause so many problems in other areas."_

"Not for me."

_"It's not like it's really hurt you in any significant way, though."_

"That's supposed to make me any happier? I dislike wasting time, effort and money. Anyway, I don't imagine that's the reason for your call."

_"No. I thought you'd like to know it's going to be a boy."_

"You had an ultrasound taken," he surmised. "Tell me, did you ask Alice whether she wanted to know in advance?"

_"Of course she did!"_

In other words, Lex reflected wryly, she hadn't been consulted, which was about what he would have expected. "Well - you got lucky. I know the family tends to boys, but after two, the chances of a third were definitely getting slimmer."

_"Pff! Strong genes, Lex, strong genes."_

"You didn't phone me just to tell me that."

_"No - I thought we might as well find some suitable date on your busy calendar,"_ his tone was sardonic, _"for the christening."_

Lex was silent for a heartbeat. "You're inviting me?"

_"Of course. It is your half-brother we're talking about here, after all."_

"I'm well aware of that. You didn't invite me to your wedding."

_"Well, that all happened very fast, you understand. There were quite a few people we didn't invite,"_ he remarked, with a touch of humor.

"Mmh," Lex replied obliquely, and reached for his agenda. "So - what are we looking at?"

_"The birth is expected around the third week of July. So I'd hope to have the christening towards the end of August."_

Lex laughed faintly. "You might want to postpone another couple of weeks, Dad; a lot of people are still on vacation at that time of year."

Lionel made a scornful noise. _"They'll be there for a Luthor christening. If I put it off 'til September, you'll be up to your eyebrows in sessions again, won't you?"_

"True."

_"Besides, I don't want to leave it that late."_

"Getting superstitious in your old age, Dad?"

_"Don't be impudent,"_ Lionel said haughtily.

"Have you got any specific dates in mind?" Lex grinned to himself.

_"I'd prefer a Friday or Saturday. Other than that, there's nothing I can't rearrange."_

"The 17th looks good, also the 24th. I'm in Washington in between."

_"Let's say the 17th then, provisionally."_

"Okay. The invitation's for two, right?" Lex added pointedly.

_"I might have qualified that, but since your boy-toy seems to have deserted you…"_

"Clark's whereabouts are none of your concern. I know where he is. With whom I attend is my business, but if that invitation isn't open to Clark, then don't look to see me there, either."

Lionel sighed huffily down the line. _"Fine, fine, if he's around, bring him."_

"I didn't say I'd bring him," Lex said with an audible smirk. "Frankly, I think he'd be bored to tears. I just want to make sure that the invitation includes him. You can keep guessing 'til the last minute, as far as I'm concerned."

_"Lex…"_

"That's the way it goes. The invitation is for both of us, but it's up to him if he's going to accept or not. I can't tell you that right now."

_"It's a ridiculous state of affairs. Lex, you're still young, and there are plenty of eligible females…"_

"We've had this discussion before, Dad, just drop it."

Lionel made a grumbling noise and was silent, but there was something about the silence that caught Lex's attention.

"Dad?"

_"I'm still here."_ There was a pause. _"Look, Lex, I'd like you to promise me something."_

"No, Dad, I'm making no promises to you. I keep mine these days, that's why I don't make them very often - not even in electoral campaigns," he added wryly. "What do you want?"

_"Just… if anything was to happen to me in the near future, I'd like you to look after your baby brother."_

Lex was left speechless.

_"Lex?"_

"I - Dad - why are you saying that?"

_"Just that, despite everything, you're the only person I could trust to hold LuthorCorp together while the boy grows up. You've made it abundantly clear that you're not interested in it for yourself…"_

"You're not afraid that I'd dismantle it?"

_"Oddly enough, Lex, you're not vindictive."_

Lex gave an explosive bark of incredulous laughter.

_"I meant, towards those who have never incurred your enmity,"_ Lionel clarified, unruffled. _"I don't believe you'd take out your aggravation towards me on an innocent child. I am considering the hopefully unlikely option that I might die before the boy's of age, of course. However, as you've just told me, these days, you keep your promises."_

"I thought you'd view that as a failing."

_"I do. Except where it might be turned to my advantage or, in this case, my child's. What do you say, Lex? I can set things up otherwise if you refuse, but really, you're by far the best qualified, and I've always believed in getting the best man for the job."_

Lex was silent for a moment again. "I'll think about it," he said eventually. "But, Dad?"

_"Yes?"_

"If you call him Julian, I swear I'm never seeing or speaking to you again."

It was Lionel's turn to be silenced briefly. _"He's nobody's replacement, Lex. I had thought of calling him after his grandfathers. Lennox Andrew."_

\+ + + + +

Krypton

Now he was a giant bird soaring on crystal wings, almost more mineral than animal. His flight carried him over scarlet forests of red and purple growth that traveled in leafy waves over the landscape; up a cataract of flames; past a volcano that spewed liquid gold; through a rainbow-filled canyon carved deep into the earth, and dodging past fire-geysers.

Now he was another flying creature, lizard-bodied and bat-winged, belching fire, a veritable dragon, while the crystal body of his previous form came to rest alongside millions of its counterparts, and the cemetery of these beautiful creatures grew and grew until a shimmering, jewel-like mountain range was created. The dragon, meanwhile, saw the rise and fall of other creatures, some fabulous beasts like itself, others almost incongruously mundane, such as apes and dogs.

When the spacecraft crashed on the planet, he was in the form of a timid, frog-like creature, which shied away from danger by inflating itself into a balloon and drifting away. He still managed to witness the survivors emerge, almost crushed by the heavy gravity of the planet, and to see them survive the first decades, then centuries, slowly building a colony, slowly gaining strength, rising from almost crawling on all fours to standing on two feet.

\+ + + + +

June, 2012

"Really, Lex, you were almost rude to the poor girl."

Lex turned to look at his father in considerable exasperation. "She wasn't taking the hint. Just what do I have to do to get you to stop introducing these," he visibly revised his choice of words, "young ladies to me, Dad?"

"Marry one of them?" Lionel suggested brightly.

"Even if I was straight," he said bluntly, and enjoyed seeing Lionel wince, "do you honestly think I could settle for any of these milquetoast misses? I don't remember my mother being anything like that, and even Alice shows more character. I can't imagine what your criteria are - unless stupidity's one of them, of course, because the brighter ones know I'm not available."

"Your… domestic partner," Lionel's lip curled distastefully, "is conspicuous by his absence."

"I've never expected him to hang on my arm. This is hardly the first time he's been away from home."

"His whereabouts, more or less, were known. This time…"

"I know where he is, as I've told you before. That's my business, and his."

"I'm beginning to scent a cover-up, son," Lionel said maliciously. "It won't be long before others do, too. Of course, these alternative lifestyles aren't really conducive to committed, long-term relationships…"

Lex's eyes blazed silver. "Don't talk about commitment to me! Or do you want me to sit down with Alice and tell her everything I remember about your numerous liaisons?"

"After your mother died…"

"Before she died," the younger man said venomously. "Did you really think neither Mother nor I were aware of them?"

"Leave Alice out of this," Lionel returned stiffly.

"Tit for tat, Dad. Though I dare say she'll find out for herself soon enough, after she's fulfilled her dynastic obligations."

Lionel stalked off across the manicured lawn, his back rigid with offense. Lex watched him go with a hooded gaze, and a somber expression that warned people off at that moment.

Most people, that was.

"Another friendly family chat in the Luthor household, I see," came the tart comment from just behind him. "What did you say to him this time, Lex?"

Curiously enough, it was just what he needed to relax. The shadow vanished from his brow and he looked back with a crooked smile.

"None of your business, Chloe."

"Everything's my business, as a journalist."

"I never forget that. However, it's not as a journalist that you were included on the guest list."

"Try telling that to my editor," she smiled wryly. "I'm still expected to come back with half-a-dozen stories."

"I'm sure you've already got them."

"But you're so much more interesting than anybody else here," she wheedled, somewhat tongue-in-cheek.

"Nothing new to report," he said lightly. "Just another skirmish in the internecine war between Luthor Père et fils."

"I thought I heard Clark's name," she said, in a quieter tone.

He shrugged. "Again, just the usual. Why am I wasting my time with a man, instead of following my father's example?"

She followed his glance across the gardens to a brunette in rose chiffon who still managed to look dainty despite her advanced state of pregnancy.

"Lex, where is Clark?" she asked, very softly.

"On a trip."

"I wish, for a moment, you would forget I'm a journalist and remember I'm his best friend. I've been talking to Martha and Jonathan. They haven't heard from him since the end of January, and neither have I. Even the last time he was on a trip to the middle of nowhere, we all still got letters from time to time."

"I'll forget you're a journalist when you do," he said, a little coolly.

Her lips tightened in irritation. This was the side of Lex she most disliked, cold and impervious. Her head went back in challenge.

"Okay, then if you won't talk about Clark, tell me about Level Three. I know you've reopened it."

She regretted saying the words almost immediately, because Lex's eyes turned to molten silver again as he turned towards her, face set.

"That's definitely none of your business, Ms. Sullivan."

"If there are going to be incidents like with Earl Jenkins again…"

"There will be no incidents. As far as you know, there is no Level Three anymore."

"But…"

"Nothing! Measure your words. I know who your 'source' must have been. You'll be discreet, or he'll suffer for it. I may like your father, but I won't tolerate indiscretions."

She swallowed. This was the first time she'd ever come face-to-face with Lex at his most ruthless, and she didn't like it at all.

"He didn't mean to…."

Her voice trailed off under his steely look, but after a moment, he relaxed a little. To her surprise, she realized she'd stopped breathing for those few seconds.

"I daresay he didn't," Lex acknowledged quietly. "Nevertheless…"

She made a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay. No Level Three." Still, she wasn't quite ready to give up so easily. "Just one question."

He eyed her warily. "Yes?"

"Does Clark know?"

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Yes."

She beamed. "Okay. I feel much better about it now."

"Your faith in me touches me," Lex said dryly.

"Sarcastic bastard," she muttered.

\+ + + + +

Kryptonopolis

He had watched a civilization grow.

He was out of body again, no particular form or shape, just a spirit drifting on the wind, observing in this place or that as these people set out to re-construct their lives. He watched as they struggled with the terrain, the gravity, the water and atmosphere similar to, but different from their own, that wrought changes in them. He watched as some lived and some died, and saw those that lived adapting. Those that adapted abandoned eventually the last vestiges of what had brought them here, forgot their origins and became wholly of this yellow planet. He watched their numbers grow and their colonies spread. He watched as some were lost, while others simply lost contact. He watched as the wild windstorms and the walking forests divided them further into different groups and nations.

The nations thrived, villages turning to towns, and then to cities. Explorers set out, discovering the islands, discovering other nations, discovering the other hemisphere, and after them came the pioneers, expanding the boundaries of their nations. There was surprisingly little war; this was a people devoted to reason and logic. Soon statesmen met to create a single nation of the diverse groups under one flag and one ruling body, speaking with one tongue. They settled down to the exploration of science, developing tools to increase their knowledge; great telescopes to see far into the cosmos, weather-control instruments, mind-communication devices, air-cars, healing rays and many other marvels.

In what became the primary city, monuments to these achievements were displayed. Here was a giant clock that measured time in billions of years, and promised billions more to come. All around were the gleaming spires of buildings able to retract into the ground to protect themselves from the devastating winds, and of which the greatest was a shining red tower. The city boasted a magnificent exhibition hall, full of images of the distant worlds their extraordinary telescopes had captured. There, too, stood a great museum where the exhibits sprang fully formed from their creators' minds thanks to the technology available. Then there were cities that were wonders in and of themselves; that nestled in the heart of the southern polar circle, or which floated on giant pontoons in the middle of a great river.

So the people grew and flourished, became strong, intelligent and beautiful. Their civilization was peaceful and proud, and they believed it would endure forever.

\+ + + + +

July, 2012

Lex paused in slipping on his shirt at the knock at the door.

"Come in."

It was Rattray. "Sir, Ms. Sullivan is asking if you could spare her a little time."

Lex glanced at the clock, surprised. It was 6:45 a.m.

"Yes, I'll see her. Show her into the office, please."

He quickly buttoned up his shirt, tucked it in, and caught up a tie, looping it around his neck as he left his bedroom, crossed the main lounge and headed for his private office. When he walked in, Chloe was sidling gently up to the desk and the computer that never slept, and she looked up guiltily when she heard the door open. He gave her a faintly reproachful look.

"Really, Chloe, do you honestly think you'd find anything interesting that easily?" He was much more amused than annoyed, and she could see that.

"I'm quite a good hacker, you know," she said, a touch challengingly. They were never quite able to meet without butting heads a little.

"Oh, I know," he said sweetly, "I've been regaled with the tales of your exploits at The Torch. However, I'm kind of talented in that domain myself, and I've gone to some pains to protect my files from others like myself - or you."

She had the grace to look sheepish. "Sorry. Call it professional deformation."

"Without hesitation," he agreed, with a quick flash of a smile. "What can I do for you, Chloe? It's unusually early for a visit, social or otherwise."

"Uh - yeah, sorry, but I figured I had the best chance of catching you at this time. I know you'll be off to work soon…"

"Actually," he interrupted, finishing knotting his tie, "I wasn't planning on going into town at all today. Once in a while, I like just to work from here, and, well, be a little quiet." The corners of his mouth quirked wryly. "It helps restore the social veneer that can get a trifle worn sometimes."

She gave him a considering look, and then nodded. "I get that."

He returned the look, then smiled faintly. "I believe you do." On impulse, he added, "Would you care to join me for breakfast?"

Her light blue eyes opened wide. "Uh - do you mean that?"

"Sure. While I don't imagine your visit is exactly social, something's telling me it's not strictly business, either. Let's not make this any more formal than it needs to be."

"Well, will we be able to, um, talk? Privately, I mean."

"Yes," he assured her simply.

"Okay. Thanks," she added a little shyly, which was, he reflected, a rare thing from Chloe Sullivan.

He crossed to his desk and touched the intercom.

"Rattray?"

_"Sir?"_

"Please ask Mrs. Harding to set a second place for breakfast. Ms. Sullivan is staying."

_"Yes, sir."_

He turned back to Chloe, and beckoned her onwards.

"This way."

Breakfast was a buffet of the kind she usually only saw in large hotels. There seemed to be a bit of everything, although a second look showed that apart from some bacon and eggs being kept warm, there were no other hot plates. She looked at Lex incredulously, because she knew he was not a big eater.

"You get this spread every morning?" she asked.

He shot her an amused look. "I can see an article about the wasteful practices in the Governor's Mansion coming on. Yes, pretty well."

"Even Clark couldn't eat all that."

There was a quick grin. "He puts a serious dent in it, though. Mrs. Harding adores him. Don't fret, it's not as wasteful as it looks - most of the staff eat breakfast on the premises, around eight o'clock, after I've left. There's not much left after twenty-odd people have had a go at this."

That sounded a little better, though she was still dubious. On the other hand, everything looked delicious, and she picked out some fresh peach slices with yogurt, and a couple of slices of toast with a little pot of what looked very much like homemade strawberry preserve. Lex, she noted, made a similar choice of fruit and yogurt, but then he opted for a crusty roll and a slice of hand-carved ham, and rather than filling their coffee cups from the pot sitting on the hot plate, he hijacked the pot outright and brought it to the table.

Lex did not ask her again right away why she was here, and Chloe didn't quite know how to broach the subject, so they ate breakfast with an accompaniment of small talk - something she hadn't realized she was able to do with Lex. Of course, she reflected wryly, Lex was doing most of the work. He really was a gifted politician. On the second cup of coffee, however, plates cleared, he sat back and regarded her steadily with those pale eyes.

"All right, Chloe, let's hear it. What brings you to me at this time?"

She took a deep breath. "Okay - first of all, this is genuinely off the record, right? I mean, I promise it is, absolutely."

He gave her a slightly quizzical look, but nodded. "I'm listening."

"Right. Last month you told me to back off the subject of Level Three…"

"Chloe…!"

"And I did," she put in hastily, "but this is different. See, I went home this weekend. Now, whatever you've got going on down there, it's fairly obvious that Dad's in on it, at least partly. I don't suppose you've told him the whole story," she couldn't stop herself adding, but again hurried on after a glance at his chilly expression, "but he seems okay with what he knows. Then you said Clark knows, and if he wasn't okay with it, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be doing it…"

"You're babbling."

She shot him a resentful look. "Give me a minute, willya? I think Dad told me certain things this weekend, hoping that they'd get back to you. Directly, that is; I mean, no, um, middle-men, no chance of, well, being intercepted…"

"This is sounding more like The X-Files by the minute."

Oddly enough, that sarcastic comment relaxed her, and she grinned fleetingly. "Well, this is me, what did you expect? No, don't answer that, I don't think I could take it. Okay, um - your father isn't in any way connected to the plant anymore, is he?"

"No," Lex confirmed. "I own 72% of the stock, and the employees own the remaining 28%."

"Right, that's what I thought. Dad says that Lionel's been, well, around two or three times since the beginning of June, and that he's mightily interested in possible recent additions to the plant."

Lex stared at her long enough for her to start to fidget.

"You're serious?" he asked eventually.

"Dad was, yeah."

"Why are you telling me?"

She gave an exasperated sigh. "Why not? I thought you'd be interested. Also, though, I think you walk on the wild side a sight too often, I also think you're more honest than your dad, and anything he's up to can only be bad news. I can only assume he's actually interested in whatever it is you've got going down in Level Three. You've bloodied his nose pretty badly two or three times over the last year with some major breakthroughs in chemical research. I bet he'd love to get his hands on your latest projects."

Lex sipped thoughtfully at his coffee for a moment or two before replying. "Since this is off the record - Level Three isn't one of LCI's R&D facilities, though it's possible that Dad might think it was. He tends to impute to me a greater degree of sentimentality than I actually possess. It'd be like him to think that I might want to have some of my really important work carried out in Smallville."

"So what is going on there, if it's not research?" she asked curiously.

He eyed her over the rim of his cup for a second, then put it down. "I didn't say there wasn't any research going on, just not LCI stuff. It's personal."

She waited him out, and he smiled slowly, appreciating her tenacity.

"Okay, I guess you've earned it. Though if you print anything, they'll never find the body," he warned amiably, and she swallowed, because when he said things like that, she could never be absolutely certain he was joking. "Your guess last month was right. I'm having the meteorites studied again."

"Lex!" she almost wailed. "You're nuts!"

"I have taken a great deal of precautions this time, Chloe," he said calmly.

"Well, I know that, kind of. Dad said the same thing - about the precautions, I mean, but still…. For goodness' sake, you're obsessed with those stupid rocks! I suppose you've got that nutcase Hamilton on it?"

"He's a very competent scientist, when you keep a leash on his wilder ideas."

"You didn't do so well last time!"

"I wasn't paying close enough attention," he acknowledged. "That's not the case now. There's no uncontrolled experimentation going on, Chloe, you have my word on that."

She gave him a helpless look. "Well… I suppose it's not exactly illegal…"

"It's not illegal at all, at the moment. It would be if I learned anything and tried to put it into application without following due procedure, but that's not the case. It's only been open a little over a year, really. I assure you all possible safety measures have been taken, too."

She thought about things for a moment. "So you think your dad might think Level Three's just one of your - I mean, LCI's regular R&D facilities?"

"Actually, you thought that," he smiled faintly, "but I'm agreeing with you. It's a likely scenario. Either that, or he's just looking for ways to irritate me generally. Something at which he's depressingly adept," he added wryly, putting his cup down and getting to his feet.

She recognized the signs of dismissal, and followed his example.

"Tell Gabe to let me know, through you, if my father's hanging around the plant in a couple of weeks. Thank you for the information, Chloe."

"You owe me, Lex," she warned cheerfully.

"I do," he acknowledged. "Don't worry, I always pay my debts."

He saw her out, then returned to his office. He sat at his desk for a few moments, chin propped on his hands, one finger stroking over his lips slowly, an old tell indicating his concentration on a particular problem. Coming to a decision, he got up again, went to his bedroom for his cell phone, and dialed a number known to only two people.

"Hamilton," came the impatient response, after only a couple of rings.

"It's Lex. What would you say if I told you to shut everything down and take a break for a while?"

\+ + + + +

Jor - El

Now he was being shown the history of his own house. It was a long and distinguished lineage, exceptional even by the standards of these exceptional people; warriors when the age demanded such, scientists, scholars and statesmen. Among his forebears were a notable explorer; an astronomer who first brought other inhabited worlds within the scope of their own scientists; a politician who founded almost single-handed the unique constitution that bound the people of this world together. The house contributed greatly to the ever-increasing prosperity of the people. At every stage, the desire to improve the quality of life of their fellows was evident, and so the people of Krypton were content, and complacent. Perfection was everything, logic and science were the watchwords and guiding principles of this society.

He had been shown the lineage as a long curve of figures, but now all had faded save the last, and he knew he was looking at his father. This time, he was shown the life in much greater detail. He saw the first years of privileged childhood, following through to golden adolescence and the early scientific successes of a powerful intellect that made the young man's name known throughout his world. Jor-El grew into manhood, his path illuminated by a succession of prizes, honors and awards to mark his contributions to society. In due course, a woman joined Jor-El - he saw now that while he had his father's features, his coloring - the inky black hair, the wide blue eyes with their sooty lashes, the soft complexion - came from his beautiful mother.

Yet all was not perfect in this perfect world. The planet began to grumble mysteriously, and a strange, debilitating and ultimately lethal plague afflicted the population. They never considered that these might be anything but the kind of natural afflictions that had beset their kind from the beginning, and merely set to work to try to cure the ailment, without truly seeking the cause. Only Jor-El bent his intellect to the roots of the problem, and began to suspect the truth.

He saw his own birth, a joyous event, long-awaited and desired by his parents, yet the presence of this small, precious life soon caused the scientist to redouble his efforts, until at last his fears were confirmed.

Now he began to recognize the images he had seen the first time he had encountered his ship's artificial intelligence. He saw Jor-El standing before his peers, telling them that the heavy metals of the planet's core were fusing into a new element, lethally radioactive to native life forms, and cataclysmically unstable, only to be met with incredulity and scorn. They had tamed this planet; it was foolish to even imagine that it could be turning against their perfect civilization at this stage. So Jor-El turned his attentions to the matter of space travel, picking up threads that had been abandoned years before after some unsuccessful experiments. The scientist knew that there was little time left, certainly no time to build the massive ships that would be needed to save an entire population. His ambitions were smaller; something big enough for just two cherished lives, his wife and his son.

The end came even faster than predicted. As the world began to disintegrate, all that was ready was the first, experimental craft, intended for an animal passenger for its first flight, but tested only in simulation. It was enough for the child, however. He watched Jor-El feverishly program the computer - as sophisticated a model as he could contrive - with all the information the boy would need to enter into his inheritance, and everything that would ensure his survival until he reached the nearest habitable planet Jor-El judged compatible with their own kind.

The scientist and his wife were no longer alive when the small craft reached escape velocity, outstripping the hungry fingers of fire that reached out for it from the disintegrating planet's surface - but not fast enough to avoid dragging with it into the slipstream chunks of the exploding crust. When the craft emerged into normal space again, close enough to be drawn in by the third planet's gravitational field, so were the flaming masses of metal that now surrounded it and affected its entry into the atmosphere, so that the craft crashed, rather than landing. In doing so, it lost certain vital elements, and so remained inert, until the day it had been re-awakened by its master.

Now, it was time.

\+ + + + +

Kal - El

"I - am Kal-El…"

**Kal-El, son of Jor-El, last son of the planet Krypton. Greetings. It is time. Our world is no more, but this one has potential…**

"What…?"

**The glory that was our home cannot be forgotten, Kal-El, nor can your heritage. You were born to be a leader of people, and the yellow sun of this planet gives you certain advantages.**

"My powers?"

**Your body stores solar energy. This is a younger sun than our own was; it gives you greater strengths in all aspects than the natives enjoy. They will worship you, and you will lead them to enlightenment and true civilization.**

"…."

**You resist the idea. We do not understand. It is right. You are a Kryptonian. You are superior in every way. You are the logical leader of these people.**

"You - you don't understand. This is not a unified race."

**You will guide them to the truth. They will not resist your perfection.**

"You really don't understand humans very well if you think that."

**There is nothing to understand. You are Kal-El. Your destiny is to lead.**

"It is not right. Democracy existed on Krypton."

**There is no real democracy here. It is merely something at which they play. These people are children. They need a guiding hand. They need you to lead them forward. You will live many times their normal lifespan. When they are ready, they will have their Supreme Council, just as we had. You will re-create the glories of our Kryptonian civilization here, and ensure that it does not perish, and they will thank you for your guidance.**

"There have been others who tried that path here before."

**Humans.**

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/0000e51a/)

 

"I - am more human than Kryptonian."

**The damage to our systems was unfortunate. We should have been there to guide you from a much earlier age.**

"You don't understand. I have been brought up with humans. I believe in them. I believe in their future. I do not believe that it's up to me to change anything, only to help them."

**This is foolish, Kal-El. You are superior.**

"That doesn't make me perfect."

**That is not relevant. You were born to lead.**

"…."

**This people is yours now to lead.**

"NO!"

\+ + + + +

**End Chapter 27**


	28. The Oak and the Cypress (28/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 28 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 8780  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

July, 2012

Jay was used to his boss' early hours, and normally arrived at his office around 7 a.m., so that he was ready when Lex turned up about an hour later. This morning, though, he found Lex in his office with the coffee pot more than half empty, which meant he'd been there a while.

"Morning, sir," Jay said, unable to conceal his surprise.

"Good morning, Jay. Don't panic," Lex said dryly, "there's nothing wrong. I just have a little change of plan in mind for today and wanted to get things sorted out in plenty of time."

"Uh - sure. I'll get my notebook…"

"Have you had breakfast?"

"No, sir, I usually get it here, after I've checked the messages."

"Well, I've already done that. Go eat, you're way too jittery for this time in the morning. I don't need you right away."

"Yes, sir."

Well, Jay reflected as he went to the canteen for his breakfast, one of the interesting things about working for Lex Luthor was the man's unpredictability, although he usually got a little more notice than this of major changes to the schedule. Ten minutes later, he was back in the governor's office with his notepad.

"Okay," Lex said briskly, as Jay sat down across the desk from him, "there's no paperwork left from yesterday, and I've notated anything I want seen to. It's all in the Out tray. Reschedule the meeting with Scott, Bradfield & Hardy at our earliest convenience. My regrets to the Caldwell Collection - ask Senator Edison if he'd care to deputize for me; failing him, Senator Meredith. One of them should be available. If not, I leave it to your good judgment to find a suitable replacement.

"I still have some calls to make, but call the Mansion now and tell them to have the Maserati ready for me at 8:30, and I want the limo downstairs in fifteen minutes. Call Arthur and tell him I'll take Bill Walters with me, but that I don't want to be bothered with anyone else. I'll be away for the rest of the day. If I'm needed, you can contact Walters, but it had better be genuinely urgent."

"What if I'm asked what you're doing?" Jay queried, scribbling down his instructions rapidly.

"Tell them it's none of their business." He grinned sharply. "Politely, of course."

"Sir…"

Lex took pity on him. "I'm going to Smallville. Personal business."

Jay looked up sharply from his notes, but met the cool gray-blue gaze of the governor, who was obviously expecting the reaction and shook his head.

"No, Jay, not yet."

The assistant looked a little sheepish. Lex's private life was his own concern, but his staff couldn't fail to notice the continued absence of their employer's partner, or the toll it was taking on Lex. They might not have known it in the beginning, but when Clark Kent had come home for six months the previous spring, they had soon learned the difference the presence of the tall, amiable young man made to the governor.

* * *

Walters was waiting, with the Maserati ready, when the limo pulled up in front of the Governor's Mansion. Lex emerged, handed his attaché case to Rattray, also waiting outside, and walked up to Walters, hand out.

"Keys."

"Uh - shouldn't I be driving, sir?"

Lex shot him an amused look. "In your dreams. You think I buy these babies to let anyone else drive them? Keys."

Lex's driving was quite sedate for about half an hour, but then they were on the freeway and he let loose. Ten minutes later, the bald man glanced sideways at his companion and chuckled faintly.

"You can let go of the dashboard, Bill. Despite the speed, I'm really quite a good driver."

"Uh - yes, sir," Bill said faintly, unconvinced.

"Besides, I want to get there by 11:00."

"You could have taken a 'copter."

"Letting half the state know where I was going, sure. That's not the purpose of the exercise."

Bill glanced at him, curious. "This is some sort of secret?"

"Let's just say I don't care to have it spread around. I'm going to the plant at Smallville."

"I thought you were going to the Kents."

"I may, later," he acknowledged.

"I, uh, didn't know you retained a personal interest in the fertilizer plant."

"That's half the point, Bill, I'm not supposed to."

Lex had done what no other businessman entering politics before him had managed - he was still in charge of his companies while being an elected official. Certainly the day-to-day running of the various companies was out of his hands, for the time being, but there was no doubt that he was still involved in their progress, nor that he was still working, privately, on certain special projects. There were plenty of loopholes in the laws regarding conflict of interest, and Lex had exploited most of them very thoroughly. The one thing, in all probability, that had redeemed him in most eyes, was that none of his companies had attempted to contend for any US government contracts, of any description or at any level. They seemed to be doing very nicely without that kind of work, in any event.

"Oh, and you're staying in town while I'm there," Lex added casually.

Bill sat upright. "Sir!"

Again, he got the slanted look. "The plant has nothing to do with you, or with state business, Bill, and what I need to do there is strictly private. I'll leave you in town at the coffee shop, and we've got our cells, if there's a problem."

"I'd like to see my boss's face…"

"I'm your boss."

"With all due respect, sir, no, you're not. Arthur is, and he'll fire my ass if I let you go off just like that…"

"Arthur has grown accustomed to a certain amount of willfulness on my part. As have you, both with me and with Clark. If I tell him I stranded you in town, he'll accept it. The only reason you're here is that I knew I wouldn't get away on this trip without at least one bodyguard along for the ride. I chose you because Clark has always said you're a reasonable kind of guy. Look, it's a social visit."

"To a fertilizer plant?" Bill asked a little incredulously.

The other man grinned fleetingly. "I know it may seem hard to believe, but that place was instrumental in turning my life around. I like to check in occasionally."

"Yes, but you could have just scheduled it in the ordinary way."

"I don't think that would make too good an impression. These people knew me long before I entered the political arena. I'm not the Governor of Kansas to them, I'm still just Lex Luthor, and they didn't like me much, some years ago."

Bill looked embarrassed, not knowing what to say. Although he wasn't Kansas-born, he'd heard of the Luthors' reputation very quickly on arriving in the state, and he could quite easily imagine the reactions in a small, agricultural town. He gave Lex a curious glance.

"Why does it matter? I've seen you give the President the bird, figuratively speaking," he asked, honestly curious.

Lex chuckled. "Nice expression. I don't know. Sometimes I think I'm insane to be this concerned. On the other hand - this is where my in-laws live, after all." He shrugged. "Seriously? In the end, they gave me my chance. Maybe because of Clark, but it was still there. I didn't want to let them down, and I still don't, so I'll always be Lex first, Governor second, in Smallville. And that means, you get to drink lattes in the Talon while I go to the plant."

Bill pulled a face. "I'm not into lattes."

"I know," Lex grinned. "Trust me - order a latte, you'll get a cappuccino."

Bill blinked at him, then chuckled. "Like that, huh?"

"Oh, believe me, it's improved since the early days."

* * *

Since anyone as illustrious as the governor usually came complete with limo, chauffeur, bodyguard and at least one member of staff, Lex could hardly blame the security guard at the plant for doing a double take, both on his security pass and on his actual face. The man had to be a fairly recent addition to the staff here, Lex thought with amusement; he was sure that at least his flashy sports cars hadn't been forgotten around Smallville, and this snow-white Maserati was one of the flashiest. Lex repressed the uncharitable impulse to tell the man to close his mouth before he started catching flies.

"Uh, M-Mr. Luthor, sir," the guard stammered. "We weren't expecting you…"

"I know, that's all right," he returned calmly. "Just let Mr. Sullivan know I'm here, but there's no rush. I'll be in his office."

It was perhaps a little unkind of Lex to descend on the plant without forewarning, but since his visit had everything to do with Level Three and nothing to do with the normal functioning of the plant, it was the only way he had of being sure no one was cognizant of that fact. The truth was, he was more concerned by Chloe's report than he cared to admit, even after having Hamilton move out again. The fewer people who knew about his continued involvement with the plant and the re-opening of Level Three, the better.

Gabe Sullivan was one of those, however; not because Lex trusted him especially, but because he knew Sullivan was bound to notice there was something else going on. Sullivan was a good manager. Despite his bad ties, worse jokes and nervous affability, he was keenly aware of what went on at his plant. He was not the kind of manager who would fail to notice truckloads of equipment moving into the premises and then disappearing. As a result, when Lex decided to reopen Level Three and install Hamilton there, he had let Sullivan in on it, at least partly. He had introduced the two men, told Sullivan that he was having the meteorites researched for environmental purposes, and then basically instructed them to ignore each other. Hamilton reported directly to Lex in any event, and Sullivan would help cover up any untoward deliveries to the plant.

Lex had no doubts that Sullivan was his man, as long as he didn't pose the plant manager any thorny ethical problems. Thanks to Chloe's long-standing fascination with the meteor shower and its after-effects, her father was actually quite favorable towards controlled experimentation with the green rocks, and Lex's extensive security measures, including the radiation shielding, met with his complete approval.

In Sullivan's office, Lex flicked idly through the reports, glancing at the figures. The plant was doing well, turning out a reasonable degree of profit, enough to keep the place constantly modernized while ensuring its employee-shareholders a small but welcome dividend most years. Lionel had been furious to hear about the management buyout less than a year after he had sold the plant to Wayne Enterprises in the certainty that WE would be closing it down shortly, and Lex had relished thwarting his spiteful plans. That the buyout had certainly been the right thing for the plant had been an added bonus, but also quite characteristic of Lex's general plans for Smallville over the years. The town had benefited, and by now most of the inhabitants had stopped doubting his motives. If it irked him slightly that they attributed such things to Clark's influence - which was not entirely the case, since there was very little Clark could teach Lex about good business decisions - he knew better than to let it show. Clark, at least, knew where credit was due, and that was enough for Lex.

He ruthlessly suppressed the painful ache that thoughts of his long-absent lover always brought, and Sullivan, entering the office a little breathlessly, was a welcome distraction. Lex unfolded himself gracefully from the main seat and offered his hand with a little smile.

"Hello, Gabe. It's been a while."

Sullivan shook his hand eagerly. "Sure has, Lex. Didn't think we'd be seeing you down here - at the plant, I mean - while you were in Topeka."

"You know I never lose touch with my interests," Lex smiled, a touch conspiratorially.

Sullivan nodded. "Well, what can I do for you? We're doing well, I hope you've seen the latest figures…"

"Everything looks fine. The shareholders are still happy, right?"

"Oh, yeah, it's working out fine."

"This isn't about plant business. It's your daughter that brings me here."

To his surprise, the older man looked rather embarrassed. "Uh, Lex, you have to understand - I've never really had much say over Chloe's opinions…."

Lex's eyes opened wide, and then he laughed out loud, to Sullivan's astonishment.

"Sorry, Gabe," he chuckled, "I didn't mean to imply that I wanted you to exercise any sort of control over Chloe. I know that's next to impossible. Besides, I have no real problems with Chloe's printed opinions. Clark and I don't call her and Lane Dynamite and the Molotov Cocktail for nothing," he added, grinning swiftly, and settling back on the edge of the desk.

Sullivan was smiling, too, now, appreciating the joke. "Yeah, she's always been quite a firecracker. Uh - you don't call her that to her face, do you?"

"I do not have a death wish!" Lex said expressively. "Clark does, though."

"Oh, he always could get away with things she'd never allow to anyone else," he smiled, then sobered suddenly. "You haven't - " He cut himself off short. "I'm sorry, that's none of my business."

"I've had no word from Clark yet," Lex supplied calmly. "Believe me, when I do, the Kents will be the first to hear of it. No, that's not why I'm here. It's something Chloe told me. You did send her to me, didn't you?"

Sullivan looked just a little uncomfortable, but nodded. "I didn't actually send her to you, but I thought she was the best way of making sure you got to hear about it. I have to say I didn't expect you to come in person, though."

"If this is really about my father, I've found that there are times and situations in which it's best for me to deal with him directly. Chloe told me that you'd seen him around? 'Prowling' was the term she used."

"He's been turning up at the castle quite a lot over the last few months, and I always seemed to run into him in town," Sullivan confirmed. "I didn't think much of it at first, but after a bit I realized he was angling for an invitation to look the plant over. Then he turned up here on a day I was at the latest Environmental Committee meeting. Williams showed him around, didn't think anything of it."

"No, of course, why would he?" Lex agreed. "You think Dad was looking to see if Level Three was reopened? That's what Chloe suggested to me."

"I'm pretty sure of it. He was back a month later; this time I was there. He was talking about our results compared to the LuthorCorp fertilizer plants. I know we're doing much better than they are; you've always been willing to put reinvestment before basic profit. His request to look around more closely wasn't unreasonable and, well…"

"He used to be the owner, and he's still my father," Lex finished the sentence for him. "It's all right, I'm not blaming you for anything. Go on, what was it that got you concerned?"

"The guy with him. I don't know, Lex, I've seen both of you plenty of times with bodyguards in tow, but there was just something about this guy that got my hackles up. He just wasn't - discreet enough for your ordinary watchdog."

"What did he look like?"

"Six foot, thin and wiry, bleached blond crop - hard to tell his age, he had these black sunglasses on all the time. Very quiet, hardly said a word, but just - ah, it's hard to define exactly. Also, he was always playing with his cell phone, except I had a funny feeling it wasn't a phone at all, but some kind of recording device. I don't know, I might just be paranoid."

"I've always found a degree of paranoia a healthy thing," Lex smiled crookedly. "Besides, paranoia's not your usual style, Gabe. If something put you on edge, there's probably a good reason for it. You know I have something here I want kept secret, and you think my dad's out to find out exactly what. You did the right thing. Did you see Dr. Hamilton leave last week?"

"Yes, he came and told me he was closing down for a little while."

"You noticed nothing untoward? He didn't seem nervous or agitated? There wasn't a driver waiting for him? He didn't leave you any kind of message or packet or anything like that?"

"No, no message. He drove off himself, in that beat-up brown Chevrolet of his. He seemed quite normal."

"Good."

"I guess his assistants will be away, too, now."

Lex looked up sharply. "Assistants?" He knew that Hamilton had only one assistant on Level Three, and that man had been sent on vacation before Hamilton himself had gone. "You've seen them?"

"Well, no, Lex, I never see any of them, you know that," Sullivan smiled a little. "But there's the elevator log, I keep an eye on that. Everything's kosher - the right access codes entered, and I know Hamilton changes them regularly. There hasn't been any activity since last Friday, though, and I've checked all the camera feeds - everyone who came into the plant on Friday also left it."

Lex knew that it was possible to get in and out of the upper levels of the plant without tripping the security system. This was supposed only to be a fertilizer plant, not some top-secret research facility, and exaggerated security measures at ground level would only look suspicious. The security on Level Three was a different matter, but that did not mean it might not have been at least partially breached.

"I'm going down there. Don't follow me, and don't tell anyone, but in an hour, I want you to hold a fire drill. A full exercise, you understand? I want everyone out of the plant. If you don't see me when you start counting heads," he produced a card from his breast pocket and scribbled some numbers on it, "call here first - that's the security officer who's accompanying me today, he's in town - and then call the other number, which is my chief of security in Topeka. Get them down here. I'm not expecting trouble," he said calmly, which was a lie but eased Sullivan's worried frown a little, "but it's just in case…. In the meanwhile, I want you to put together the personnel folders of everyone who's been hired and is still here since January of last year. Actually, make that everyone hired, whether still employed or not," he corrected. "You'll have to stay in your office, anyway, to make it look like I'm here, too."

Sullivan looked embarrassed. "This probably isn't the time to tell you I'm expecting Chloe today." Lex gave him a speaking look and he shrugged ruefully. "Well, how was I to know? It's too late to put her off, she'll be here any minute, I guess."

"And the first thing she'll spot is my car," Lex sighed. "I suppose it's foolish of me to ask why she's coming to the plant, since you gave her the germ of the story in the first place. Just - keep her busy, and for God's sake don't give her access to Level Three."

"I couldn't, anyway. I don't know the current set of codes."

"Then don't give her access to the intranet," Lex cautioned, "or she's liable to go looking for those codes herself."

"I could put her to looking over those personnel files," Sullivan suggested, a little tentatively.

Lex wasn't terribly happy at the idea, but sighed faintly. "I suppose she's going to be on the story, anyway. If that's the only way you can keep her occupied, then go ahead." He smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure it's nothing, really, I just want to be certain. My father gets some funny ideas sometimes, but I'll take care of that in my own time."

With the assistance of the security cameras, Lex was able to pick his moment to slip out of the office and into the intricate network of ancillary corridors. These had always hidden the access to Level Three, but Lex was not going to be using the elevator that was near the manager's office. Instead, he crossed nearly half the plant in search of the stairs he had had installed as a precautionary measure. The access from the plant would only respond to Hamilton or himself, unless he instructed otherwise, and at the lower end, the door was almost invisible, only needed in the event of an emergency.

The access panel opened readily to his patterned touch, but before engaging, he hesitated a moment, beset by a curious, if fleeting, sense of unease. He looked around the small storage room for a case or something he could stand on and, finding something suitable, dragged it under the large vent and got up on it. There was a third means of access to Level Three, known only to Lex, through a series of ventilation passages. He loosened and lifted the ventilation grill, and reached inside to find the little control panel that would unlock the exit panel at the bottom. Then, instead of fastening the grill back down again, he deliberately left it just infinitesimally skewed. He was taking a risk, he knew, but every instinct he had was on alert, and this was the best he could do at the moment. His cell phone would cease functioning before he was halfway down to the experimental labs.

He started off down the stairs, carefully closing the access panel behind him. A touch to another control panel brought dim lighting up, just enough to see the steps. It was a long way down; the elevator arrived, as before, at a catwalk, from which another hydraulic platform connected to the ground level. The stairs, however, went down all the way, and Level Three was big enough to house a commercial airliner. Trotting briskly down the stairs, Lex wondered about these 'assistants' Sullivan had mentioned. Obviously they weren't the blond man Sullivan hadn't liked the look of, or he would have mentioned it. Hamilton had apparently been evacuated safely, which meant that his research was safely stored and locked down. He would have removed the most critical elements, leaving only material that was not so sensitive if discovered. Was it possible he had simply taken on a little additional help? Lex kept communication with Hamilton to a strict minimum, and the scientist had permission to call on LCI security to run personnel checks if necessary.

There was certainly nothing on Level Three to connect to Clark in any way, not even for Hamilton - save for the participation of Lex himself, and that meant little, given Lex's overwhelming and well-documented scientific curiosity. He had made certain years before that the only connections any of the Kents appeared to have to the meteorite debris were just the same as those of any other Smallville resident. So even if someone - his father, notably - had managed to break into Level Three, there was little to find except research on the meteor shower and, quite frankly, Lex wished any potential hacker joy of his computer system; it held a considerable number of nasty little surprises.

Lex opened the door at the foot of the stairs cautiously. His biggest problem right now was his own security system. Level Three was never very busy or noisy. Only Hamilton and his regular assistant worked in the labs, and there was no longer anything resembling production lines or heavy machinery to be found there. The premises had been converted into labs, test rooms and storage rooms, and the only sound at present was the faint whirr of air-conditioning and electronic equipment. He plugged his cell into a control panel just beside the egress point of the stairwell - it didn't function as a phone, but he had other uses for it, and he was able to send command codes to the security system that would replace the camera images with an innocent-looking pre-recorded loop of video footage. It would also shut down the heat sensors. Now all he had to do was get to the central control room and consult the security logs to see if anyone unauthorized had been or still was on the premises.

He was almost there when he felt a sharp sting at the back of his neck. He clapped a hand to the spot in reflex reaction, and his eyes widened as he felt a small dart in his skin, but even as he turned to identify his assailant, his vision blurred, then went dark, and he collapsed.

A thin, wiry man with cropped, bleached hair, dressed in black clothes came up to the crumpled form, knelt, and felt for a pulse, then nodded, satisfied. He thumbed on the radio clipped to his shoulder holster.

"Telfer."

_"Boss?"_ came the prompt response.

"Corridor 4. Tell Janke to start setting the detonators, we're moving things up a little. Carefully - we don't want any questions asked upstairs."

_"Right away, Mr. Zeidel."_

A couple of minutes later, a burly blond man jogged into view. His eyes widened as he took in the unconscious figure at his boss' feet.

"Hey… he came after all…"

"Indeed," the other man said dryly. "Put him in Storage Room One. Make sure he's secure, and remove any… accessories. I thought it was Luthor Senior messing around in the system that shut down the heat sensors, but it looks like Junior here might have a few tricks of his own up his sleeve. I got lucky, spotting him like that. Get a move on, the trank won't hold for long. Then go help Janke. I'm going to try to find out how Junior got in. I don't like the idea of a back door I don't know anything about."

"What about his old man?"

"He doesn't need to know anything yet. He's still trying to access the records, right?"

"Yup. Turning the air blue," Telfer grinned slightly. "Not so easy as he thought, I guess."

Zeidel scowled. "Not funny. The boss wants all the information he can get. Even if this isn't the place Luthor seems to think it is."

Telfer blinked. "It's not?"

"Don't think so."

"We're still blowing it, though?"

Zeidel nodded. "It's still our best chance to get rid of genius here without too many questions asked. Wrong place at the wrong time. With him gone, I don't think any other secret labs he might have will stay secret for long. Easy pickings for the boss then."

"'kay," Telfer said easily, and hoisted Lex over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. He set off back the way he'd come, while Zeidel headed in the other direction.

"Oh, and Telfer?"

He paused to look back. "Yeah?"

"I don't want any surprises, either. Somebody gets in the way upstairs, get rid of them. Quietly. We can put any bodies where they'll be incinerated, no traces. That," he indicated Telfer's burden, "is the only one we really need found."

"Okay."

* * *

Hidden in the ceiling grating above the corridor, Chloe Sullivan held her breath, praying that the disquieting 'Mr. Zeidel' wouldn't realize there was a third party present.

She had already been in the plant when Lex had arrived. The security personnel knew her by sight and let her move around freely, without even warning her father, since they tended to assume she'd go straight to see him. She did, usually, but this time she'd been looking for Williams, her father's assistant, the one who'd given Lionel Luthor the recent guided tour. It was pure chance that had led her to spot Lex's distinctive bald head and slim, straight back disappearing around the corner of a rarely frequented corridor.

By the time she had found the only place he could actually have gone, given his direction, he had disappeared, but it didn't take her too long to spot the slightly displaced vent cover. She also spotted the crate and, dragging it into position, quickly verified that the grill was indeed loose. As invitations went, this was pretty blatant, and she stared at the gaping entrance in narrow-eyed contemplation. Why on earth would Lex feel the need to take a back way down to Level Three?

She hoisted herself into the shaft, thanking her fates for her slight build, and was soon embarked in a sequence of passages and rung ladders that led her painstakingly down to Level Three. Reaching the bottom, with the flat surface of the ceiling grid spread out before her, and the wall grill just in front, she was even more perplexed to discover that the grill was unfastened, and she could drop into the passage without much difficulty. Lex, at this moment, was nowhere in sight.

"Damn it," she muttered to herself, pretty well inaudibly, "what the hell does this mean? You're a devious bastard, Lex, you don't do obvious. So, are you expecting trouble, or are you just baiting a trap? And if so, is it for me?" She shook her head after a moment. "Nah - you wouldn't do that to me now, if only for Clark's sake."

She smiled a little wryly. If she was being honest, she didn't think he'd play that kind of trick on her, anyway. It had taken time - she had been angry with him at first for the inordinate degree of influence he had always seemed to have over Clark, and then even angrier when she had realized just why he had that influence. She had been unable to hold a grudge for too long, though, because Clark was so obviously happy and wanted so much for his friends to get along, and she had never been able to say no to the big sap over anything that really meant a lot to him. After a while, she had realized that the influence easily worked both ways, and had even learned to appreciate Lex to some degree, though she'd be boiled in oil before she ever admitted it to his face.

At any rate, while she had not been completely surprised to learn that Level Three was in operation again, she didn't automatically jump to the conclusion that something nefarious was going on. It was certainly secret, but Lex was unquestionably a brilliant scientist and entitled to his professional secrets; that was just how research was carried out. As long as the work was being done conscientiously, responsibly and legally, his work - or that done on his behalf - was his own until he chose to share it. She knew that Clark was aware of Lex's plans, whatever they were, and if she still had lingering doubts about Lex's ethics she had none at all about Clark's, and knew that his influence was very considerable, even in his prolonged absence.

She came to a decision and hoisted herself the couple of feet up into the ceiling area. When Level Three had been reorganized for whatever it was Lex was doing down here, an entire false ceiling had been installed to carry the air-conditioning, lighting and other electrical wiring. Large ducts snaked around, as well as thick plastic tubing that insulated finer wiring, but that still left plenty of space for a slim person to move around fairly freely. She had to watch where she put her feet, to make sure she was walking along the support beams, but she was able to progress quite rapidly. The only problem was she didn't know where she was going, so when she saw a thin man in black in the passages below her, she decided to follow him, and hope he was too focused on whatever his task was to notice the occasional scuffling sounds from the ceiling.

For a few minutes, this seemed to be working fine, though she still had no idea where she was going and still had no sight of Lex. Then, abruptly, the man below her stopped, looking down a side passage, and turned that way. Her heart leaped as she saw him pull a gun from his shoulder holster and silently switch the clip in it. When she finally saw his target, it was all she could do not to cry out, and she watched Lex collapse with a horror redoubled by her utter helplessness. When she realized a minute later that he had merely been tranquillized, the sense of relief was enough to make her dizzy for a moment.

After listening in on the conversation below, she opted to follow Lex. These guys were professionals, that much was obvious. She had assumed at first that they were working for Lionel, but it was clear from Zeidel's words that there was someone else involved. As she scrambled across the ceiling on the heels of the bigger man and his unconscious cargo, she had a sinking feeling that this was something even more complicated than the usual Luthor vs. Luthor power games. Part of her was screaming that she should be getting back upstairs and warning her father and plant security about the bomb threat. The stronger part of her was saying that she needed to help Lex. She had more or less put him into this position in the first place, and she figured there would be no bombs going off while Zeidel and his friends were still on the premises.

Telfer, fortunately for Chloe, wasn't even considering that there might be someone following him. He stomped rapidly along the passageways to the designated storage room, followed a few feet overhead by Chloe, who was also struggling to commit to memory the twists and turns. While he deposited his burden in the storage room, removing cell phone, watch and a few other small items and attaching Lex solidly to a chair, and the chair to one of the supporting columns with some nylon rope, Chloe started looking around for a way down. The problem was how to avoid the cameras and sensors. She could see quite clearly where they were from up here, but she was sure that just cutting the wires would only set off every alarm on the premises.

Then there was the question of getting down. She was reasonably sure she could kick through the mesh paneling with a little bit of effort, but again, the noise would attract too much attention. Besides, she had no idea how soon Lex was going to wake up again, nor in what state he'd be when he did. It was going to take a small miracle to get them both out of there and she desperately needed him to be at least conscious and aware to direct them to the exit, wherever it might be now. She was thoroughly disoriented by now. She started examining the panels beneath her feet and soon found the emergency access hatch, but that didn't advance her any. She could still see the red LEDs winking on the security cameras.

Sometimes, miracles just happen. The lights went out abruptly.

Chloe was frozen for a moment, but when there was no immediate indication that power was going to be restored, not even some sort of emergency lighting, she sprang into action. Blindly, relying on memory, she reached for the cables to the security cameras, which had been just before her when the lights went out, and tugged hard, feeling them give under her hands. She paused for a moment then, trying to recall her position relative to the service trap. She groped around briefly, found the catches and released them, lifting the panel up beside her. The floor beneath had been free of obstacles, so she carefully lowered herself - blessing good fortune for her light frame, though she'd have appreciated a few extra inches in height - until she hung from her fingertips, and then, with a faint prayer to whatever guardian angels might be watching, let herself drop.

She fell no more than three or four feet and landed well, with only a slightly jarring shock. She paused again, calling on visual memory to supply the details of the room she couldn't see. She had a tiny flashlight, but she wasn't risking it just yet. She took a few paces forward and to the left, hands outstretched, and sighed in relief when her fingers brushed again a cloth-covered shoulder. She traced the contour, got a light grip on the slim shoulders, and felt down the arms until she came to the bonds securing the wrists. She knelt, and now broke out her Maglight to see what she was doing.

Lex's hands were tied with plastic strips, and she could see now that his ankles, too, were attached to the chair legs. She fished out her Swiss Army knife - a particularly sophisticated and well-equipped model Clark had given her for Christmas a couple of years earlier and which she was never without - and cut the strips. A minute later, Lex was free, and she was patting his face lightly to see if she could get a response. It didn't take too long before she felt him flinch from her touch a little.

"Lex!" she whispered urgently.

There was an indecipherable sound, then he cleared his throat. "Chloe?" His voice was hoarse, and not too strong.

"Yes. Shh, I don't know who's around just now. How are you feeling?"

"Nauseous," he said succinctly. "Where are we?"

"Level Three, Storage Room One."

"I can't see anything…"

She left one hand on his shoulder, and flicked the flashlight on. "There's been some sort of power outage. Don't try to move 'til you feel better."

"There can't be a power outage here," he said roughly. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Following you, you ungrateful SOB," she said tartly, though without any real heat, "and I think you knew it, too."

"Would I have asked?"

"You're devious enough." She grinned briefly, then switched off the Maglight again. "Sorry, want to conserve the battery. Look, I don't know much about blackouts, but there's one going on now, so let's get out of here. I'm guessing you know some clever way out, right?"

He made a non-committal sound, and she felt him trying to get to his feet. She slid under his arm, her own around his waist in support, since it was clear that he was still groggy.

"How did I get here?" he asked.

"Some guy in black called Sidle or Zytal or something like that shot you. Lex, come on, we've got to get out of here and warn the folks up at the plant that these guys are planning on setting off bombs sometime soon."

She felt him tense beneath her arm.

"The blackout won't last long. It's not an outage, someone's messing with the security system, and as soon as they find the reset key, the emergency power at least will be back on."

"Listen, there's still no backup generator on, and I pulled the leads to the security cameras in this room as soon as I realized that…."

"You pulled them after the blackout?" he queried sharply.

She gave an exasperated sigh. "That's what I said, right? Yes, of course. What would have been the point of doing it earlier?"

"You've just done us both a big favor." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Even when the generator comes back on, you've broken the circuit to the security cameras, and the fault locator won't be able to pick up the precise breach right away because the power failure will have caused a general re-boot…"

She chuckled herself. "Okay, okay, I get the picture. No need to draw me diagrams. Now, can you find our way out of here in the dark?"

"Of course." His voice was a lot stronger now, and she could tell from the tone that he had that self-sufficient look that made her occasionally want to smack him.

"You're a smug bastard, Lex Luthor," she grumbled.

"Just find the door for me, Chloe. You can call me all the names you want once we're topside."

"Ha! I'm holding you to that." She flicked the flashlight on again and found the door, but she couldn't see a handle on it, never mind a lock.

"Uh, Lex…"

He was moving ahead of her. "There isn't a lock in this place that won't open to me, blackout or no blackout," he said calmly. "Keep the light on the door."

She scowled at his back. "If you're so infallible, how come there's a blackout in the first place, and no emergency backup?"

"I told you, someone's messing around in the control room," he said absently.

"The guy who popped you said L - someone was looking for files," she informed him. She saw him glance briefly at her, and knew he'd caught her little stumble over the name, but heaved a silent sigh of relief when he returned his attention to the door, evidently choosing not to call her on it. Not yet, at least.

"That would do it," he agreed calmly.

She remained silent as Lex studied the door surround, and then put his hand out to touch a precise spot. A small panel slid aside.

"Hey - if there's no power, how…?"

"Piezo-electric crystals," he explained absently, reaching back to catch her hand and direct the light more precisely. "The human body carries a distinct, if minute, electrical charge, and piezo-electric crystals don't take much to react. Enough to read fingerprints, for example, or, with some careful circuitry, to power small motors."

She blinked. "You're going to use that to power the elevator?"

"You didn't use the elevator to get down here. Neither will we to get out."

"Damn it, Lex, you did leave that vent open for me!"

Lex's faint sigh coincided with the door cracking open, and Chloe almost missed it.

"It wasn't specifically for you," he said. "I just - had a funny feeling."

"Getting psychic in your old age?" she taunted, a little uneasy despite herself. It wasn't the first time she'd found Lex disconcertingly prescient.

"Very funny, Dynamite," he returned dryly. "Kill the light."

"Don't call me that!" she scowled, complying.

Actually, she didn't dislike the tag that much, and she just loved its pendant for her irascible partner Lois, but she'd be damned if she was going to admit as much to Lex.

She could sense, rather than see, his grin as she felt his fingers close around her wrist to guide her forward. He was clearly much stronger now, not needing her physical support anymore, leading her with remarkable surety through the pitch-dark passages.

"Lex…"

"Shh."

"No, listen," she whispered, moving a little closer to him. "This Sidle character, he said he wanted to find how you got in here. He'll be looking…"

"He won't find anything," Lex returned softly. "Besides, he's probably gone to see about the power. He'll need a flashlight, so we'll see him coming."

"How come you know your way around so precisely in the dark, Lex?"

"I designed the re-fit. Be quiet, Chloe."

She resisted the rather childish impulse to stick her tongue out at his back. Yet that simple comment had made her rather abruptly aware of something she realized Clark had been trying to tell her for years. Lex really wasn't like other people. He might, at last, after several years of freedom from Lionel's dominion, seem like a normal person - and the one thing Chloe no longer doubted was his intense devotion to Clark - but he certainly didn't think like one. His remarkable intellect always seemed to keep him a step or ten ahead of the crowd, never mind his enemies.

Yet there was something about this whole set-up that smelled like a trap to Chloe. She couldn't put her finger on it, yet the conversation she'd overheard between Zeidel and Telfer suggested that they had clearly been expecting Lex to come by sometime, and sooner rather than later. Yet Lex hadn't been anywhere near Level Three in well over a year, Chloe was quite sure of that. That meant that the unknown party had been equally certain that word of Lionel snooping around would attract Lex to the premises in short order, and that, in turn, meant that Chloe was responsible for landing him in this predicament, since she'd been the unwitting messenger. That was a feeling she didn't like at all, that she'd been played for a fool.

"Lex?" she said softly.

"What?" he sighed, evidently resigned to her conversation.

"Why did you come here? Why do you still care what Lionel does? I don't believe he could find anything here that could cause you any real problems."

Even though she could only barely distinguish his form ahead of her, she sensed that he stopped breathing for a split second.

"My business is mine, Chloe," he said after a moment. "He has no right to snoop around. Any more than you do."

"If you cut him the same kind of slack you cut me…" she pointed out a little wryly.

There was an answering, rueful note in his voice. "He's my dad, okay? All I have of the past. I can reject everything he stands for now, but I can't ignore the fact that he's still responsible for all my formative years. I can't reject that without…." His voice trailed off, a little awkwardly.

"Without rejecting your own past and the things which have contributed to making you what you are," she supplied quietly. "It's not you that's changed, it's your goals."

"Oh, I've changed, too. My ethics have. I get to see my choices more clearly than most, that's all. I used to be just a rat in a maze; I finally preferred the reward at the end of one particular path over another."

"Clark."

"Clark," he agreed simply. "We're here. Your flashlight?"

She passed it to him, but at that moment emergency lighting, blue and wan, flickered on all around them. He looked up and around, a faintly ironic smile twisting his lips.

"Not bad," he commented, in a vague compliment to whoever was fiddling with the computer systems.

"Lex, if these are experimental labs, won't the power shortage be causing, well, problems somewhere?"

"It might if there was any work going on," he said calmly, "but I ordered a lock-down two weeks ago. There's nothing reactive going on here just now. Oh, and don't worry about the security cameras, they won't be functioning for at least another five minutes, until the breach is found. Let's see…." He applied his fingertips to a point on the wall, and a door suddenly clicked open, a sliding panel formerly quite invisible.

She had to tell him now.

"Lex - your dad's here. In the control room."

The blue lighting cast a ghastly pallor on his pale skin, but his shocked look didn't help.

"Here - now?"

"Yeah. He's with these guys."

"Behind them?"

"Uh, no, not from what I heard."

He swore under his breath. "They'll kill him, too."

"Lex, you're not hearing me. He's with them."

The pearl-pale head bowed for a moment, then he looked up, and there was a hard glitter in the gray-blue eyes.

"It doesn't matter. Chloe, go upstairs. Get help and sound the alarm. No, wait…." He patted his pockets down and pulled a slight face finding them empty of anything useful. "Got a pen?"

She always had a pen - half-a-dozen, usually. She passed him one silently, real concern, bordering on fear, beginning to fill her. He found a business card and rapidly scribbled a number on it.

"This is Bill Walters' cell number. You know him, he's usually Clark's bodyguard. He's in town, at the Talon. Call him and explain. He'll get a hold of his boss. Then get your father and get everyone out of here." He slid the door panel aside. "At the top of the stairs, you'll find a standard keypad mechanical lock. Type C, then Clark's birth-date - 6 figures - and turn the knob hard clockwise. If it doesn't work at first, try again, it can be a little stiff. Just remember to start out with C, to clear the code."

"Lex…"

"Go, Chloe. Look out for the guys who are already upstairs. I can look after myself."

She wanted to make a rude reply to that, but his tone brooked no opposition and his expression was set.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Lex," she grumbled. "I'll get help here as soon as possible."

He nodded, smiling very faintly, and she set off up the steps. The wan light from the corridor stayed with her for twenty steps or so, then the stairwell went dark as the bottom door slid shut, and she had to switch on her Maglight again.

It was a long climb. Level Three was twice as deep as any of the upper levels. It gave her time to think, and to wonder. She had thought she knew Lex, better than most. Because of Clark, they were perhaps not quite friends, but certainly not enemies - allies might be the most appropriate term. Because of Clark, she knew Lex permitted her a degree of latitude that was conspicuously absent with respect to her colleagues. Because of Clark, she had an insight into his private life, which was an exceptionally rare privilege. None of that, nothing of what she had learned either directly from Lex himself or indirectly from Clark had led her to suppose that Lex's links to his father were in any way binding.

Yet he was heading straight back into danger in order to extract Lionel, even knowing he was in some way connected to the people trying to kill Lex. Chloe didn't associate Lex with sentiment usually, save where Clark was concerned, and even then, he tended to be decidedly sardonic about his own feelings. Lex and his father were obviously an equation that was nowhere near as simple as it had appeared to be.

Eventually, she was at the top. It took her two tries to get the door open - as Lex had warned, the knob was pretty stiff to turn - but then she was back in the store room and her first reflex was to check the signal strength on her cell. Seeing it at three-quarters, she fished out Lex's card and quickly dialed the number he had written there, setting off through the corridors towards her father's office.

_"Hello?"_

The young, male voice was wary. She thought she knew which one he was now, a bright and cheerful strawberry blond with an irreverent sense of humor.

"Mr. Walters?"

_"Who are you?"_

"This is Chloe Sullivan. Daily Planet? We've met…"

His wary tone did not diminish in the slightest. _"How did you get this number, Ms. Sullivan?"_

"From Lex, about ten minutes ago."

_"From the governor? Why doesn't he talk to me himself?"_

"Because he's not here right now, and his cell was taken from him and, anyway, where he is, there's no signal," she said exasperatedly. "Will you shut up and listen? He's in trouble. We're all in trouble, come to that."

_"I'm listening."_

She told him everything - everything except knowing Lionel Luthor was in on whatever was going on. That was the kind of imbroglio the Luthors were quite capable of working out on their own. She merely said that he also seemed to be on the premises and that Lex had gone to rescue him.

"So that's it," she concluded, then added involuntarily, "Oh, shit!"

_"Ms. Sullivan?"_ Walters asked, alarmed.

"No, no - I've been too busy talking to you to watch where I was going, and I'm a bit lost, that's all," she explained quickly. "Don't worry about it. You get the cavalry here, I'll sound the alarm."

_"I'm on it. Thanks."_

She felt a little better, now that she'd gotten a message out to somebody, and she started looking for the right way to the manager's office. However, as she passed a junction, she reflected that there was one way to make absolutely sure the plant was evacuated. She looked around for the nearest fire alarm.

She had just found it and was going to break the glass when there was a faint 'pop' and a sharp sting just below her left shoulder blade….

 

**End Chapter Twenty-eight**


	29. The Oak and the Cypress (29/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 29 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 4938  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE**

Telfer had almost let himself be spotted by the short, blonde woman, rounding a corner a little incautiously. Fortunately, she had been just finishing a call and her attention had been elsewhere. He ducked back around the corner swiftly and watched, thinking she was just another of the plant's employees, although she seemed a bit disoriented. It was only when she suddenly headed for a fire alarm that he guessed she knew something was up. Mindful of his instructions, he brought up his silenced gun and shot her. It was a good shot, clean and precise, and she fell silently. He came up to the body to inspect his work, and then thumbed on his radio.

"Boss?"

_"What?"_ Zeidel sounded decidedly testy.

"I, uh, just eliminated a little interference upstairs. Some blond chick…."

_"Some blond chick? Masterly description, Telfer,"_ he said bitingly. _"Be a little more precise."_

"Uh - mid-twenties, five-three, maybe a hundred and five pounds, a hundred-ten, short blond hair…." He bent down and patted the lifeless form. "No ID, but a Maglight, pocket knife, pens, a cell phone - she was calling someone when I first saw her."

_"Find the last number called."_

Telfer read it out. "It's not from the cell's directory."

_"Can you access that? Read me the entries."_

He complied, and after about six names, Zeidel swore faintly.

_"Chloe Sullivan. It's got to be her. We could have done without that, God knows who she called. When was it logged?"_

"Uh - two minutes ago."

_"Hold on."_

Telfer waited patiently until his boss's voice crackled over the radio again.

_"That number's busy now, and there's only an anonymous messaging service. Where are you? Anywhere near the Level Three access?"_

"No, boss, about halfway across the plant."

_"Okay. Stash the body somewhere out of sight, in a storage cupboard or something, and get on with it. We've still got time. She might not have known Luthor's here…"_

"She was about to set off the fire alarm."

There was more muffled profanity from Zeidel. _"She must have seen you or Janke at work somewhere, but whoever she called, it wasn't the cops, that's clear. Stick to schedule, but keep your ears open."_

* * *

Oblivious to events above ground, Lex had taken the route Chloe had used to find him and was moving rapidly but silently across the ceiling towards the control center, not wanting to risk the corridors and perhaps stumbling across the wrong person again. Less than five minutes later, he was above the control room, and checking the surrounding passages for a safe place to emerge. He paused for a minute, silently watching his father typing furiously at the principal keyboard.

_"Mr. Luthor!"_ The male voice sounding over the intercom was impatient. _"Do we have progress on restoring power and internal security?"_

Lionel impatiently flipped the contact to respond. "If you want all the files wiped, you can have the power back right now," he snapped. "There are guard dogs on this system."

_"Ah - but you can get to the files now?"_ the other man asked, in a more moderate tone.

"Yes."

_"Okay. The information's the important thing, after all. Let me know when you're able to restore full power. I'd very much like the security system back on."_

It was said politely enough, but there was a tone in the smooth voice that clearly set Lionel's teeth on edge.

"Arrogant shit," he muttered after switching off the intercom.

"Takes one to know one, Dad," Lex said quietly, emerging into the flickering light coming from the computer screens. "You should have realized by now that you're looking at dummy files. You have no hope of cracking that system, you're not a good enough hacker, and in any case, there's nothing in there of any great interest to you, I'd think."

Lionel controlled his surprise well. "Lex. Good of you to drop in. Maybe you can get the lighting back on; I'd hate to disappoint my - associates."

Lex smiled faintly, and took a seat at another keyboard. Ten seconds later, the lights came back on - but no security cameras.

"Tell your - associate that there's a break in the circuitry in Sector Two, Room 31, and that the security won't come back on-line properly 'til it's repaired," he instructed.

Lionel gave him a narrow-eyed look. "Why?"

_"Mr. Luthor? I see there's been some progress?"_ came the call over the intercom at the same time.

"Mr. Zeidel," Lionel responded. He kept his gaze fixed on Lex even as he spoke to the other man. "There's a fault in the circuitry. Sector Two, Room 31. If you can get to it and repair that, everything should be up and running again."

_"Got it."_

"Why?" Lionel asked again when the intercom was disconnected.

"Because it'll take him across to the other end of the floor and out of the way for a few minutes," Lex replied simply. "Were you aware that your friends are trying to kill me? You've always been promiscuous, Dad, but I think you've outdone yourself. Who the hell did you get into bed with this time?"

"That's rich, considering your past."

"It can withstand a good deal more scrutiny than yours, personal or professional. And you know perfectly well I meant the latter. What are you doing here? You're not interested in my research…"

"When you undermine half the world's economies, I most certainly am!"

"Sure, it hurt a bit, but Ecoline has opened as many doors as it closed. You could be in on the ground floor of reconstruction, Dad. The possibilities are limitless - except for your unfortunate penchant for a quick fix, of course. There's nothing here for you. Surely you've realized by now that this is not my main research center. Not that your friends care; they're planting explosives upstairs as we speak, so can we please get out of here?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Lex," Lionel dismissed so airily that it was clear, Lex realized with a shock, that he believed what he said. "You've always tended to over-dramatize. I admit that I did think I'd find something more useful than your perennial obsession with meteors here, but…"

"Dad," Lex interrupted, "I don't call getting shot with a tranquilizer dart and waking up tied up in one of the storage rooms being overly dramatic."

"Shot and…? Lex, please, you really think I'm that gullible? How did you get loose, if that's what happened?"

"Well, you fritzing the power was a good start," Lex remarked snidely. "Look at me, do I usually go around like this?"

For the first time, Lionel took in his son's state of dress; in his shirt-sleeves, without tie or belt, no watch on his wrist. No, Lex was always immaculately dressed in public. Even in private, he was rarely genuinely informally dressed. Right now, he could only be described as disheveled, and that was definitely unusual. Lionel frowned a little.

"Lex…"

"This isn't a game anymore, Dad. You set me up, or you've been used to set me up. After I told Hamilton to take a break two weeks ago, that should have been an end to it if you'd really been interested in the research, or if your partner, whoever he is, had. You had to know I'd be down myself to see what was going on if I kept getting reports of you snooping around."

"I knew we'd need you to get at any information kept here," Lionel acknowledged slowly.

"He's not interested in information," Lex said sharply, getting to his feet. "I'm supposed to die here, and it's meant to look like an unfortunate accident - wrong place, wrong time." There was a moment's silence. "I don't think you were in on that part, somehow, but if you're still around as well, then my guess is you're going to become a statistic like me. We're wasting time here, Dad, let's go."

"I'm telling you you're being ridiculous. I'm hardly the kind of man you just - dispose of," Lionel scoffed.

"Neither am I, or do you think the disappearance of a state governor would go unnoticed? That's what's making me wonder just who you're dealing with these days, because there aren't many with that kind of attitude and behavior."

"Lex, no one is trying to kill you…"

"I'm afraid you're wrong there, Mr. Luthor," a third voice came from behind Lex.

The bald man turned sharply to find himself facing a tall, wiry, bleached blond, dressed in black and with an unpleasant smirk on his thin lips. He was also holding a gun on Lex.

"When you mentioned a circuit break, I thought I'd go check on a certain - package - being kept in storage, before going on to Section Two. When I found Junior gone, I realized the only break had to be right there." He addressed Lex directly. "I'm surprised you managed to get out of there, though I suppose your little blonde friend had something to do with that. You really should have left with her. You might actually both have made it, instead of both dying here."

Lex froze, mouth thinning, eyes going flat and hard. "Chloe." His voice was flat, too, and quite expressionless.

"We'll have to think about hiding her body a little more carefully. It won't do for the authorities to find a body with a bullet hole in it when they investigate the terrible, destructive attack on these premises by, say, some zealous eco-terrorist faction. Or maybe some aggrieved group of Middle East fanatics whose main source of revenue you've so neatly cut off lately? Oh, by the way, you wouldn't know whose phone number 918-555-8759 is, would you? Your friend had made a call just before one of my men found her."

It was Walters', but Lex was giving nothing away. "I'm sure you tried the number for yourself. It means nothing to me."

"It was busy," Zeidel said mock-regretfully, "and no voice mail. No clue."

"You know who Chloe is - was. A journalist. I imagine she called a colleague. You're right, she freed me, and I showed her the way out and told her to get help. At least one person might have received that message. You don't have much time now."

Zeidel studied him, but Lex was a superb actor when he wanted to be, and there was absolutely nothing to indicate that he knew any more than he was saying.

Lionel, watching his son and the blond thug facing off, began feeling that he was out of his depth.

"Just a minute…"

"Mr. Luthor," Zeidel said calmly, "leave. With the power back on, the elevator's working again. Take it and get out of here."

"You can't be serious."

He turned his cold gaze on Lionel. "If you want to live, go. Or stay, and die with the plant and your son."

"You're giving me a choice?"

"Oh, you've too much to lose. You've got a new family on the way, and you're up to your neck in this, after all."

Lex had barely spared his father a glance since Zeidel had entered, but now he turned towards him, and Lionel had never seen quite that expression in Lex's eyes before, suppressed fury blended with something oddly like compassion.

"You're going to have your work cut out getting yourself out of this one, Dad," he said softly, his tone icy cold. "How does it feel to know you're owned, body and soul?"

Before Lionel could retort, Zeidel intervened, shooting another dart unceremoniously and unerringly into Lex's exposed neck. Lex went down immediately.

"Sorry, Junior," he said insincerely to the unconscious man, "but I really need you asleep for this."

As before, he went to check on his victim's pulse then, satisfied, opened the radio channel.

"Telfer - status?"

"All set, boss, and all clear so far."

"What about the girl's body? Is she anywhere near one of the charges?"

"No, but she's near the tanks. Once they go, there won't be much of anything left."

"Okay. Set the timer for ten minutes. I'll see you outside."

He never saw the desk lamp come swinging down onto his skull.

Lionel stood over him, expression tense, then knelt and searched Zeidel's body thoroughly for weapons, pocketing the tranquilizer gun, spare clips, a tiny, ankle-holstered gun and a couple of knives.

"I will not be owned," he muttered while going through the procedure, "and Lex was never part of the deal."

With some difficulty, for Lex was barely shorter than him, and a little heavier set, he hoisted Lex up and over his shoulder, and set off, rather slowly and staggeringly, for the hydraulic platform. Somewhat to his relief, after a few minutes, he felt Lex stir. He stopped, and Lex upright against a wall.

"Lex?"

There was a groan from his son. "Oh, God. Think 'm gonna be sick," he complained.

"Now's not the time," Lionel said briskly. "We'll progress much faster if I don't have to carry you like a sack of potatoes."

"Dad? What happened?"

"I didn't like Zeidel's attitude."

With the ghostliest of grins, Lex nodded, and pushed himself away from the wall. Lionel's arm came around his waist for much-needed support, but they made much better progress, and were nearly at the platform when the fire alarm sounded.

"Shit!" Lionel swore. "That will put the elevator out of commission."

"No," Lex countered. "Time?"

His own watch missing, he reached for his father's wrist to view the watch there, and nodded to himself.

"Alarm's upstairs," he explained briefly. "I told Gabe to run a fire drill. It won't affect the systems here."

Lionel stared at him. "You told Sullivan to run a drill? Are you becoming psychic or something?"

"No, Dad, just paranoid," Lex returned, straight-faced. "Especially where you're concerned. Come on, let's keep moving."

They got onto the platform, and Lionel propped Lex up in one corner. The young man promptly slid to the floor, a slightly greenish tinge to his complexion. Lionel hit the UP button, and cast a critical eye over his son as the platform began its slow progress upwards.

"You look miserable."

"I think," Lex replied, "that I might be slightly allergic to something in the tranquilizer he was using, and that was my second dose. I recovered faster last time." He swallowed, a little painfully, then opened his eyes to look up at his father. "You going to tell me who your silent partner in this mess is?"

"Rupert Thorne," Lionel admitted after a moment.

"Oh, for God's sake! Whatever happened to your sense of discretion, if nothing else? Even if you survive this, you've really sold your soul this time. He's going to end up owning LuthorCorp, now that you've let him in the door."

"You're over-dramatizing again," Lionel said calmly. "We have a business agreement."

"What makes you think he's going to play by your rules?" Lex demanded. "Especially after that little stunt you tried to pull in Gotham, which is his town, after all."

"And which you put a halt to!" Lionel countered, aggrieved.

"It had nothing to do with me. You'd already attracted the attention of - other parties."

"Oh, please! If you think I believe in that insane piece of urban mythology…."

"I can assure you there's nothing remotely mythological about Batman. I've seen him myself."

Lionel made an indeterminate and slightly rude noise, then returned to the charge. "At any rate, are you telling me you had absolutely nothing to do with that particular fiasco?" When Lex remained silent, Lionel uttered a triumphant, "Ha!"

"Look," Lex said mildly, "if he hadn't gotten what he wanted from me, he'd have gotten it from someone else. The moment he worked out your real estate scam, you were done."

"You didn't have to co-operate."

"Like you haven't screwed up a few of my plans? Ravenna? Oh, and what the hell," he added, more animatedly, "did you say or do to the adjutant on Santa Prisca to get him to change his mind? Up to that point, he was practically creaming himself with enthusiasm."

This restored Lionel's good mood to some degree, and he chuckled faintly. "Come now, you don't expect me to tell you all my secrets, any more than you would yours."

"I don't know," Lex said, with a glint of amusement, "we seem to be sharing a rare moment of entente here."

Lionel looked down at his son. Lex was still looking a little greenish - the slow movement of the platform was giving him a touch of motion sickness - but his gaze was alert, bright with a touch of humor, very different from the flat indifference Lionel was used to getting from him. He felt a curious pang; if he had handled things differently, they might have been friends rather than rivals. If only Lex hadn't fallen for that big, black-haired bumpkin….

"Lex?"

"Hmm?"

"I - I'm sorry about Ms. Sullivan," he said quietly.

Lex closed his eyes and nodded briefly. "Me, too," he said eventually. "I don't know what I'm going to tell…."

The reverberation of a violent explosion somewhere above them, which caused the platform to shudder strongly and falter in its upward movement, abruptly interrupted him. Both men looked up in alarm, and Lex swore explosively.

"I thought you said you'd clocked Blondie!" he said accusingly, struggling to his feet. "The bastard's set off his bombs early."

"Obviously, he has a hard head, like someone else I could mention," Lionel returned irritably. "The elevator…"

"The elevator's safe from everything but a direct hit. It's this platform and the catwalk that aren't."

As if to reinforce his words, there was another shock wave that made the girders groan in protest. They still had about twenty feet to go, and the platform was geared to move very slowly in deference to the sensitive nature of some of the loads it had to bear. Even Lionel was beginning to look a little worried.

"Lex, what exactly are you researching here?" he asked, looking down at the maze of labs and offices below.

"You already know. The meteorites. That's not going to be a problem, either, Dad," Lex said, guessing his thoughts. "They're mostly inert by nature. When I told Hamilton to take a break, most of them got put back in the vaults, and they're new, blast-shielded. I'd have done the same for the whole level, but it just wasn't possible, that kind of thing needs to be part of the original construction plans. Though I'm not sure even blast shielding would stand up to the methane tanks blowing upstairs," he added tersely.

"I don't suppose this place is quake-proof, either?"

"That's another thing that needs to be put in during construction, and you were too much of a cheap-skate to authorize it," he sniped.

"Kansas is not an earthquake center," Lionel returned loftily, opening the gate as the platform finally came to a halt.

"No, but a few well-placed C4 charges," and they both stopped as yet another blast shook the metallic structure beneath their feet, "can produce pretty much the same effect," Lex finished, his tone dry as a desert.

Lionel just gave him a speaking glance and set off towards the elevator, leaving his son to fend for himself. Lex was still groggy, not recovering nearly as quickly from the second dose of tranquilizer as from the first, but he grinned tightly at his father's retreating back and focused on getting himself across the length of the catwalk. He loathed it, not only because he was slightly subject to vertigo, but also because he still had vivid memories of being suspended from it, held back from death only by the strength and determination of one blue-eyed farmboy. Lex pushed that thought aside and concentrated on getting himself down to the other end, and the elevator.

"Luthor!" an enraged voice roared from below.

Startled, both the Luthors looked back and down. Zeidel was rapidly climbing the maintenance ladder, a slim rung ladder set in a tube between the two hydraulic slide columns for the platform. Lionel returned swiftly down the catwalk to where his son stood.

"Go call the elevator, and wait inside when it gets here," he ordered brusquely.

"Dad…"

"You're in no shape for anything. Besides, he's unarmed. I took care of that. If he has any sense, he'll forget the job and just get out of here with us. If not, I can handle him. Go, Lex," he repeated, as Lex hesitated.

Reluctantly, Lex complied. His father was right, after all, he knew that intellectually. Zeidel would surely be looking to get out himself. If it actually came down to a fight, however, even if Zeidel had twenty years on his father, Lionel was fit, fast and a good fighter. Furthermore, he had no compunctions whatsoever about fighting dirty, as Lex could confirm personally.

Lionel made for the top of the ladder and looked over. Zeidel was about ten feet below and climbing fast. Considering that the elevator hadn't even arrived yet, Lionel had to assume that Zeidel would certainly make it to the catwalk before Lex and he could get away. He contemplated just shooting the man, but if, by any chance, Level Three and the plant as a whole escaped destruction, that would leave an awkward dead body to explain. It was bad enough about the Sullivan girl, but at least forensics would establish clearly that none of the weapons Lionel currently held were responsible for her death.

"That's far enough," he called down, and Zeidel looked up to see Lionel Luthor calmly holding his own gun on him.

"Luthor - double-crossing bastard!" he ground out.

"I consider that I'm the one getting double-crossed here. My son's life was never, at any point in time, an issue I discussed with your employer, Mr. Zeidel. Now, I'm a reasonable man. This place is minutes away from annihilation. If you will assure me that Lex is no longer in any danger from you, then I suggest you join us in getting out of here. If not, I will have to sedate you right where you stand, and that would be unfortunate - for you," he added sweetly.

"If you don't kill me, Thorne will."

"I will reimburse Mr. Thorne the value of your fee. That should placate him somewhat."

"He doesn't like it when his plans are crossed."

"Neither do I. Lex's life is the concern of no one other than myself," he said determinedly, "as I will make abundantly clear to Thorne the next time I see him."

"What about the plant?" Zeidel asked, measuring his options.

"My good man, you could have razed it to the ground any time you chose. I loathe the place; it is one of the most prominent symbols of Lex's rebellion against me. If you're concerned about legal reprisals," he added thoughtfully, "don't be. Lex and I usually prefer to keep such matters in the family. The investigation will be as cursory as realistically possible, unless we're pushed - singly or jointly - to alternative measures."

His message was clear; back off, and Zeidel could go free. Persist, and if he had the good fortune to survive this incident, he'd be in deep shit with the authorities, both the Luthor men and his own employer.

"I'm coming up," Zeidel said gruffly.

"Your word on Lex first. Bear in mind that I'm armed, and you're not."

"Fine! Junior's safe from me, I just want to get out of here. The bombs went off early."

Lionel took a step back in silent invitation to Zeidel to complete the climb, though the gun remained steadily trained on the blond man. He was almost at the top when there was yet another resounding explosion. This one was different, though, a dull, heavy roar that shook the building to its very foundations. Then there came a great crack, like overhead thunder, and the scream of tortured masonry as it began to give.

"Dad," Lex yelled from the elevator cabin, "the tanks have blown! Run!"

The methane tanks, set directly over the center of Level Three, would consume everything in the fire of their explosion. They had scant seconds before the ceiling of Level Three cracked open and the place became one giant fireball. Lionel had already turned towards the open elevator door when there was an even bigger crack of sound, and the roof seemed to fall in.

Instead of the devastating blaze of heat, though, there was a fleeting sensation of intense cold. Startled, Lionel looked up for a moment; the roof was sagging inwards visibly, and then, with a great roar of breaking cement and twisted steel, it collapsed, followed by the carcasses of two huge steel vats. They fell some distance away - the catwalk was towards the upper end of the floor - but between the immense impact of their landing, and the debris they dragged down with them, it was as if a bomb had gone off in the heart of Level Three. Yards of steel piping came crashing down on the hydraulic platform, heavy enough to wrench it forwards and down, which in turn buckled the elevator columns and twisted the connected catwalk sharply.

Lionel was thrown off balance, reeling backwards and grasping wildly at the handrails. The gun flew from his hands, over the edge. Zeidel, also scrambling for relative safety, saw his chance, and launched himself at Lionel. The older man, tackled around the knees, went down on the metal walk with a gasp, but promptly kicked back fiercely. There was a short struggle, but Lionel was not prepared to let himself be taken down easily and fought the other man like a tiger.

Meantime, Lex, still unsteady from the after-effects of tranquilizer, watched helplessly, and noted how the falling platform was gradually pulling more and more at the whole structure, slowly but surely ripping it away from its wall supports. One particularly sharp pull was all it took; Lionel had a good grip on the broad mesh walkway, and Zeidel did not, and another solid kick dislodged him. He tumbled off the twisted catwalk with a helpless yell, falling into the void below.

Freed of the weight of his assailant, Lionel lay for a moment recovering his breath, until an urgent call from Lex brought him to his senses. The catwalk was now tilted at a sharp angle downwards, and it took some effort to get a grip and start moving. His own weight didn't seem to be making much difference, but a glance over his shoulder told him what the problem was; the hydraulic platform, entangled in tons of steel piping, was slowly being pulled downwards, and ripping with it the whole structure connecting it to the elevator. He clawed his way along the walkway towards the elevator and relative safety, though neither he nor Lex knew what they were going to find once on the upper levels. Since the methane tanks hadn't actually exploded, merely collapsed through the floor, however, it looked like things upstairs were perhaps not as bad as they could be.

Lex had anchored himself as firmly as he could to the grab bars set at waist level all around the elevator cabin, and was leaning out, right hand outstretched, prepared to assist Lionel as soon as he came within reach. He was going to need it; the angle was steeper as he drew nearer the cabin. Lionel reached out with one hand for Lex's, with the other for the last section of the handrail, but even as he did so, with an ear-piercing shriek of distorting metal, the catwalk twisted sharply to the left, and the handrail on the right ripped away from the wall completely. The platform fell to the floor, dragging the columns down fully, and the far end of the catwalk sheared away from them as they fell. The whole walkway dropped from beneath Lionel's feet to slam against the wall, held only by a couple of bolts on the left, which were also being pulled free.

The sudden dead weight on Lex's right arm was shockingly painful, dragging him down to his knees and almost right out of the cabin. He had a firm grip on the bar, though, and tried to gain support by sitting down, feet braced against the doorframe to one side, knees bent. It was an awkward position, even a little dangerous, for he was mainly held inside the cabin by his grasp on the bar, and it shortened his reach, but it gave him added leverage. Despite the pain in his shoulder, he also retained a tight grip on his father's wrist.

"Dad!" He couldn't risk leaning out further to look, he might topple out then, pulled down by his father's weight, but even as he spoke he felt that lighten just a little.

"Yes… just… a minute…" Lionel panted, shaken, but trying to use the section of catwalk still hanging alongside him to get a little leverage so that he could hoist himself into cabin. Between that and Lex's grasp, he managed to get his other hand up to grip the sill; then, it would only be a moment more before he could pull himself up. Lex was drawing Lionel's right hand up, too, when there was a slight buzzing sound from the elevator cabin.

Lex looked up in shock, and suddenly threw himself back with all his strength, straightening his legs to push himself deep into the cabin, desperately trying to drag his father right inside, but it was no use. The inner door slid shut, crushing his wrist and breaking his grip. Lex screamed in agony, and blacked out.

**End Chapter Twenty-Nine**


	30. The Oak and the Cypress (30/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : 30 (of 30)  
 **Chapter Length** : 6234  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/) , angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

Lex woke in what seemed like a white cocoon. He was surrounded by a soft, pearly white light, it was completely silent, and for a moment he wondered if he was dead, but dismissed the thought because he really didn't believe in an afterlife. Instead, he lay still and took stock of himself. His next thought was that he might have gone deaf. Explosions; there had been explosions, and if he was still alive, that didn't mean he hadn't suffered some sort of damage. It was strange; he had this void in his memory. Somewhere in the analytical part of his brain that hardly ever ceased functioning, he knew it wasn't a real memory loss. It was just a raw patch that he wasn't quite ready to poke at yet, because it was going to hurt. Speaking of hurting, he thought vaguely that he ought to be feeling more physical discomfort than he was, but he was really quite comfortable in this strange, white, silent place. Even his hand….

He sat up abruptly and pulled his hands out from beneath the covers. Nothing. Not a scar, not a mark, yet he distinctly recalled the heavy weight of sliding steel crushing the bones. With that memory, the rest came flooding back.

"Oh, God! Dad…."

He was trying to get out of the bed when there was a blur of color to his left and warm hands pressing him back gently into its softness.

"Lex." The voice was as warm and gentle as the hands. "Don't try to get up yet. You can't leave this enclosure, anyway. The conditions outside are too harsh for you."

"Clark…?" He was a little dizzy. "Where am I?"

"In the Fortress of Solitude."

He looked around blankly. "Doesn't look much like the barn to me."

"Lex - look at me."

He did, slowly, a little ashamed of his childish reaction, pretending it wasn't there if you couldn't see it. It was, though, and he needed to face it. He needed to face everything that had changed so profoundly.

The blue eyes, however, were unchanged, as was the look of deep love, and he responded to that first, instinctively, reaching up to stroke a smooth cheek gently. His hand was caught, warm lips pressed into his palm.

It was Clark, and it wasn't. He looked older, the softness in his face gone, the planes and contours of the handsome visage stronger. He was wearing that costume Lex had seen in design and, yes, for all the garish coloring, there was something dashing about it, in an odd way. He even looked bigger. His hair was slicked back, glossy jet, curiously untouchable, not the soft, inky black waves Lex so loved to sink his fingers into - except for one detail. One unruly lock escaped the hard sleekness, falling tantalizingly into a curl above the right eye, ridiculous and endearing. It softened the stern beauty of the face, made him accessible.

He endured Lex's survey patiently, the light in his eyes yearning.

"This… isn't Clark," Lex said softly, the differences seeming to outweigh the similarities.

He flinched a little. "I'll always be Clark. To you, I'll always be Clark, and if ever I wasn't - you have to know that Kal-El is just as much in love with you as Clark is. How could it be otherwise? You're the only one who's ever understood, even better than I do most of the time."

 

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/0000fycr/)

 

He looked so forlorn suddenly that most of Lex's doubts vanished, and he leaned forwards, wrapping his arms around Clark's neck and burying his face against the strong column of the younger man's throat, where he found the heat and the scent of Clark's body blessedly familiar. He felt the tension ease from Clark's body as Clark hugged him back, hard, and they held each other close for a long moment.

"My father?" Lex asked eventually. He was calm now, already fairly sure of the answer.

"I'm so sorry, Lex. I didn't even know he was there at first. It's only once the security services arrived that I found out, and then I couldn't let on that I knew about Level Three, even when the tanks crashed through the floor. Not until Mr. Sullivan told them where to find the elevator. He - he must have fallen, Lex. There was nothing to be done."

Lex nodded slightly. "Did you find Chloe?"

Clark looked at him. "You knew?"

"I was told," he said simply.

"Yeah - she - they found her in a storage closet. One shot, in the back." His voice cracked. "She'd have died instantly. I think - I think she must have been dead even before I could get there, before I even understood what was happening."

That hurt almost as much as knowing about his father.

"She tried to rescue me," Lex said bleakly. "They both did." The silence was painful, and he took a deep breath before going on. "Anyone else hurt?"

"They found another body on Level Three, another man. No one seemed to recognize him."

"Hired help," Lex supplied. "Rupert Thorne was behind this. What about the personnel?"

"They're safe. Some minor burns and shock. I didn't see Hamilton, though."

Lex shook his head. "He went on vacation last week. There wasn't anyone else on Level Three, just me, my dad and the other guy, Zeidel."

He was aware that he sounded a little too detached. Reality evidently still had to set in properly.

"Where are we again?" he asked once more.

"The Arctic Circle. Where you found the place for the orb."

Lex looked at him, eyes glinting silver. "You've been here all these months?"

Clark flinched again. "It wasn't like that, Lex. I didn't know how much time had passed on the surface. I was - I don't know, I was kind of in a virtual reality, reliving all my history, learning about myself, my people, all sorts of things. It was weird - not some kind of sit-down history lesson, but total immersion, like I really became different animals and people. I saw everything. I saw stuff I can't even begin to describe to you. For all I knew, it could all have been happening in a microsecond; instead it took six months. I didn't even know that right away; after I came out of that - that VR place, I had to fight the AI…."

"What? Why?"

Clark laughed a little bitterly, pulling back. "You'd have loved this a few years ago. It wanted to make me ruler of the world. I was the superior being, according to it. It wanted to turn Earth into a new Krypton, and install me as absolute ruler. I told you I was meant to be an invader."

"If that was the case, you'd have fallen in with the AI's plans for you," Lex said evenly.

"You don't know what my home world was like! Beautiful, but cold and passionless. All logic and reason; no heart or warmth. No time or room to express emotion or feeling. That's what it wanted to do to Earth, to impose on the people here. I can't imagine being like that, and I can't imagine Earth becoming like that." He sighed wearily. "So I fought it over the issue, and in the end, I won. It's obedient to me now. When I - surfaced, I found months had passed. I took a little while to catch up on world news, see what had happened out there, see what had happened to you, if you were still okay. Then I told it I wanted to leave. I found it had made the suit for me, and refined the image so that the differences are stronger, so I put it on and headed straight for the mansion. You were supposed to have been the first to see it, to comment. Only I got there just in time to hear Arthur mobilizing everything towards Smallville, and hear that you were in trouble at the plant. So I set off to Smallville - and fucked everything up." He sank his head in his hands.

"Clark - I don't see what more you could have done. Chloe was already… gone. You couldn't have known the kind of predicament Dad and I were in…. I know you couldn't have seen anything before the ceiling cracked - Level Three was lead-shielded for radiation protection. I know you had to have stopped the plant from exploding and leveling everything within half a mile. I don't know why you're being so hard on yourself."

"Don't you?" His blue eyes were huge with misery. "I did just about everything wrong I could have. I was thinking only of you, at first, and I didn't know how to get into Level Three without attracting attention - I didn't know if I could even get into the place. It took me an age to realize there were a couple of guys above ground who were up to no good; I could hear them talking about bombs over their radios. They were easy enough to take out, then I thought I'd take out the bombs, too. I knew from what they'd said that it was a cascade sequence; if I got the first one, none of the others would go off." He thumped his fists against the mattress. "I was stupid, stupid. I forgot everything Nightwing and Batman taught me. I found the first one, and just ripped it out, but it was booby-trapped; I couldn't move fast enough to stop the others from going off because I hadn't bothered to find out exactly where they were. God, I was so fucking stupid! If I'd frozen it, I could have waited for the Bomb Disposal Unit to get there, but no, I wanted to get it all out of the way, and to find you. Instead, I set the whole lot of them off…. After that, I didn't have a choice. I had to help the others, get them out. I froze the methane tanks when the Fire Department people said they were going critical, and they fell through the floor…. That's what killed your father, isn't it? That's what made him fall, the ceiling caving in."

The pain in his voice was as sharp as needles and he was crying now, large tears trickling down his face. Lex put up gentle fingertips to catch them as they fell.

"You couldn't know. Dad - we ran out of luck, that's all," Lex said quietly. "It's true that the ceiling falling in didn't help, but it wasn't the direct cause either. You didn't know about him, or Chloe, and even if you had, you still couldn't help everyone. You did what you could. If the tanks had exploded, everybody on site would have been killed, and the damage would have been incredible."

"How do you manage to be so calm and - and comforting?" Clark asked him.

"It doesn't help me to see you hurting, and," he smiled faintly and crookedly, "this isn't calm. It's more like shock. I'm still processing. I know you did everything you could. From what you say, you can't have been there more than a few minutes before those bombs were set to go off, anyway. Maybe you could have stopped the first one, but since that didn't work, you did whatever possible to minimize damage. I know you did what you could for me, too - I was badly injured, I remember that much."

He held up his right hand, looking at it, a little wonderingly, and Clark's hand snaked out to hold it.

"I tried. I thought the AI could heal you, like it did that first time, but - it's artificial, Lex."

Lex started. "What?"

"It couldn't just clone you a new hand. I thought - it talked of cloning me. I can't - my physiology isn't all that compatible with that of humans, I couldn't have a child with a human woman, apparently, and it had plans to get around that by cloning…. It said it could clone humans, too. It couldn't do it with you, though, you're - your body chemistry is altered. I don't know whether it's the meteors or - or me."

"Different how?" Lex asked, bemused.

"I don't know exactly. Several things - for one, you're not ageing at the usual rate, but much slower. Lex - I'm not the biochemist here; I'll show you the files later, okay? Anyway, it couldn't just grow a new hand for you, and the damage was so bad that there was no way to save your own. So - it's prosthetic, but advanced beyond anything you can imagine, and - and it's your own skin covering it, right down to the fingerprints. That was something the AI could reproduce. It should feel totally natural, it's completely adjusted to your neural paths, and eventually you'll even forget about it."

"No Bionic Man stunts, though?" Lex asked, with an odd twist to his mouth.

Clark shook his head, still not looking up. "No, Lex, it's just a hand. I'd hoped for better, for you, but…."

He studied it thoughtfully, and ran it up and down his own arm, checking the sensations. "I wouldn't have known." He reached out and touched Clark's face suddenly, his gaze intent on the other man, but Clark just took it and kissed the palm and held it, as he had done with the other hand when Lex first woke.

"I wondered if you might react differently," Lex confessed, a little knot of tension in him easing.

"I know," Clark said simply.

"So - you just - brought me here? How long has it been?"

"Not long. About five hours. I didn't just kidnap you. I spoke to Bill Walters, told him I maybe had the means to heal you. The medics were talking amputation…."

"You talked to Bill?"

"Not as Clark," he said patiently. "He didn't recognize me, I'm sure of that. Besides, I've been keeping an eye on the news since we got here; there's a lot of talk, but the story on you is that you've gone for private medical treatment and they'll have another bulletin by the end of today."

"I think I'm not impressed with my security," Lex said dryly. "For all they know, you could bring back some sort of identical robot, programmed to do your bidding."

"You mean you don't, anyway?" Clark asked innocently, glad to find a way to lighten the mood a little.

Lex grinned fleetingly. "Brat."

"Anyway, I promised I'd get you back home by then - tonight, I mean. I think you're going to have to pretend you never really woke up, though."

"That shouldn't be too hard. This is all feeling like some weird kind of dream, anyway."

Clark took up Lex's right hand again, and began to make love to it, slowly and teasingly, his gaze never leaving Lex's. His warm lips grazed the skin softly, and he nibbled and sucked at the long fingers until Lex, as aware of the seductive sensations as he had ever been, forgot all about the artificial hand in the haze of pleasure induced by Clark.

"Does that feel like a dream?" Clark asked in a low tone, pleased with the color his actions brought to Lex's pale skin, and the darkening of the blue-gray eyes.

There were times Lex seemed to move so fast Clark wondered if he didn't have a little super-speed of his own. He was kneeling on the bed now, hands hard against Clark's face, his mouth hot and hungry on Clark's in a devouring kiss. There was a hint of desperation in it, and Clark felt like he ought to try to gentle things a little, yet he felt that same edge of desperation himself, as if they had come so close to losing each other - because Lex could have died, because Clark could have lost his private battle against the AI and emerged transformed as some alien demiurge, because they might not be able to weather these latest developments together.

"Get out of that suit," Lex said thickly, sitting back on his heels, his gaze as demanding as his mouth had been.

Clark didn't hesitate; in a blur of movement, the suit was gone, folded neatly and set aside, and he knelt on the bed, too, facing Lex. He studied Clark again, the weight of his look as heavy and possessive as any physical caress.

He wrapped the kiss-curl around one finger briefly. "This is cute," he remarked, and then sank all ten fingers into the black locks to tousle them thoroughly. Immediately, they fell back into the soft waves he loved to stroke. "I still like this better," he added, studiedly casual.

Clark smiled, relieved to see 'his' Lex reappear from behind the slightly shocked and too-tightly controlled façade Lex had presented since waking. His hands went instinctively to stroke the irresistible, smooth, pale skin, and something in Lex's expression softened, the long fingers in Clark's hair gentling.

"I'm sorry," Lex said ruefully, but not without humor.

"For what?"

"For not taking all this," he freed a hand to gesture around them, "in my stride. Stupid of me. I've known it was coming for years, known it was what you wanted to do, what you were meant to do. I've even done what I could to help you get here, yet when it comes down to it, I end up being more than a little freaked."

Clark's fingers fluttered over Lex's skin, drawing faint swathes of color where arousal and heat followed his gentle, adoring touch. He smiled as much at the response as at the thought Lex's words evoked, which he voiced.

"It's about time."

"What?"

"I said it's about time you got a little freaked about me. I mean, I've been freaking regularly since I was fifteen, while the only thing you weren't exactly cool about was my not telling you in the first place. So it only seems right you should, well, get a little taste of it, kind of. Karma, Lex, karma."

Lex pretended to be offended. "Is that all the thanks I get for being unfailingly supportive through all your years of alien angst? Teenage alien angst, at that," he added pointedly.

Clark just grinned and nodded. "Yep. That's it." He moved in on Lex, pushing him back gently. "Plus the kudos of having the only alien boyfriend on Earth, of course."

"What kudos?" Lex was resisting just enough to enhance the friction between them. "You and I are the only ones who know. Well, aside from your parents and your Gotham friends, but they hardly count," he added, with a delicate moue of dismissal. "Besides, from what you told me in December, you're not actually the only alien on Earth."

"You're so fussy, Lex," Clark complained lovingly, getting absorbed into looking for all those points that would really stir Lex into action. "I think I'm the only gay alien here," he supplied helpfully.

"You know that 'advance guard for an invasion' theory of yours?" Lex laughed softly. "It's all bullshit. If you're typical, you'd all have been way too easy."

"Ah, but only for bald, genius billionaires, and you're one of a kind, Lex. My one of a kind, by the way." He bit down with carefully dosed strength on Lex's left nipple, enjoying the hiss of pleasure and the arch of the supple body against him. "I'm not sharing, not even if some unimagined deity was to resurrect my planet and my people."

Lex's fingers knotted tightly in his hair again, and tugged his head back.

"Clark - did you hear what you just said?"

He looked down into the gray-blue eyes soberly.

"Yes, Lex. I told you, I've seen where I came from. I wouldn't exchange one day of my life here for that. Not one," he said seriously.

"You can't just abandon that kind of heritage!"

"I'm not going to, but it will always be kept in relation to what I am now. I was raised on Earth; I've learned this world's values. They're not perfect, and there are plenty of things I'd like to see different. Compared to where I've been, virtually speaking, for the last few months, though, if I had to choose, I'd choose Earth, and not change a thing."

Lex smiled slowly. "Not even your troublesome, megalomaniac boyfriend?"

"Especially not him," Clark smiled back before kissing him passionately.

"We're not done with this, you know," Lex warned, when Clark let him up for air.

"Oh, Lex!" he moaned. "You always want to analyze everything to death. Will you please just get on with it and fuck me!"

"I love it when you beg," Lex grinned.

Clark's 'begging' usually took the form of more or less imperious commands, and they both liked it that way.

* * *

Lex lay sprawled over him like a blanket, limbs tangled with his, head pillowed over his heart, sleeping lightly, lulled by the steady beat of his lover's heart. The weight was nothing to Clark; he just loved the warmth and the sensation of still being wrapped around Lex, even though they weren't intimately joined anymore. His own body felt pleasantly sated, the last resonances of the intense enjoyment he got from being penetrated by Lex still thrumming along his nerves as his normally impervious system gradually reasserted itself. Since even post-coital gratification rarely led to sleep, however, he was thinking again.

Most of his thoughts were still a sort of general purring satisfaction, but there was a mean little voice whispering that earth-shaking sex was hardly a mark of respect to the departed, and what did he mean by laughing and making jokes with his lover when they had both suffered losses of considerable stature? So the awakening higher processes took that thought and examined it coolly, and Clark knew it had been the right thing for them at that point.

More than anything else, they needed to reconnect with each other at every possible level. They needed to reassure themselves, and each other, that the bond that had held two such dissimilar spirits together for so many years was still intact and healthy. That thought drew Clark to consideration again of their relationship, and wonder at its diversity and unity. As he grew older, the ways in which they complemented each other grew clearer to him, as did the influence they had on each other, yet there was never any sense of a loss of identity, for either one.

Without Lex's ambition, curiosity and unstinting support, Clark doubted he would be where he was now, fully in control of his powers and ready to use them in aid of a goal that had once seemed a Utopic pipedream to a naïve teenage farmboy. Without Clark's faith, his encouragement, and his ceaseless questioning of the rights and wrongs of even apparently minor issues, Lex would probably still be where he was now, but he would be a very different man. Clark's beliefs had given Lex his first real look at a viable alternative for himself, and his love had made that alternative something Lex judged worth fighting for. Clark, on the other hand, had learned to recognize the shades of gray from Lex, so that he had lost much of his naïveté without losing his innocence. He seriously doubted he could have withstood the AI's plans for him without that invaluable insight. He would have set out determined to save these sweet, weak, misguided lesser beings known as humans from their own frailties - whether they liked it or not.

Everything had indicated that he and Lex should have been enemies; everything had conspired to bring them together in the closest of partnerships. Lex's casual prediction, years earlier, that their friendship would be the stuff of legend was coming true and would only be enhanced as time passed. He knew now from the Artificial Intelligence that, barring accidents, Lex was going to live well past human norms. He himself had a life expectancy of at least several centuries; always assuming the meteorites - which the AI had called 'Kryptonite' - didn't kill him. He wasn't sure how Lex was going to react to that knowledge when he took it in properly; all he himself felt was profound relief that probably the most important person in his life was, all things being equal, going to be around for a long, long time. It was maybe a selfish reaction, but Cassandra's vision still haunted him occasionally, and he had always taken comfort from the absence of a tombstone for Lex. This latest development seemed like confirmation of the interpretation he had always placed on that image.

Now that they were grounded in each other again, sure of their place, they would be able to face these unexpected and painful losses, and help each other grieve properly. And while Clark bitterly regretted losing Chloe, wondering if he'd ever quite be able to forgive himself for not being there on time, he knew Lex's emotions would be much more complex, a reflection of the tortuous yet enduring bond he had maintained with his father.

"Have I ever told you," a drowsy voice remarked from under his chin, "that you think too loudly?"

"Frequently," Clark smiled, despite his troubled thoughts. "Go back to sleep, Lex."

"Too late, farmboy," came the dry response, and Lex propped himself up to consider his lover. "What's up?"

"Well, I'd like to say you were, but…."

"Slut," Lex chuckled faintly. "Oh, and as diversionary tactics, that sucked."

"You'll just accuse me of alien angst again."

"It wasn't?"

"Just a little introspection."

"Let me guess. You were wondering where we'd be if we'd never met."

"You don't need to sound so sarcastic," Clark grumbled mildly. "As a matter of fact, I was thinking that if it wasn't for you, the AI would probably have won the argument, and I'd be trying to rule the world."

"You don't seem quite the type."

"It would be for the good of humanity," Clark said simply.

"Ah. Well, put in that light, I guess…. Though why anyone would want to rule humanity for its good I can't imagine."

"You weren't averse to the idea."

"For purely selfish reasons, I assure you. I really wasn't particularly concerned about my fellow man."

Clark laughed a little. "Well, yeah, I can see that."

"Anyway, you changed my mind on that point. You made me realize what a chore it would be. Definitely not profitable enough to put up with the nuisance factor."

"One day you're going to have to give up this self-centered SOB image of yours, you know."

"What image?" he protested, then added, in a grumbling tone, "Next you'll be telling me I've mellowed."

"You have," Clark said blithely.

Lex scowled at him. "You take that back right now! I'd like to see the looks on some people's faces if you told them that."

"I do recognize I'm kinda privileged here," he acknowledged idly.

"I can just see it," the older man said, with extravagant resignation. "One of these days you're going to end up my biographer."

"Official or unofficial?" Clark asked with interest.

"Both, but under a _nom de plume_ for the racier one."

"I don't know about a racier one. The legend's already lurid enough."

"So it is," Lex agreed dryly. He was silent for a moment, then added, in a more reflective tone, "I might have asked Chloe - even though she'd probably have laughed in my face."

"She'd have wanted to do an unofficial version," Clark smiled fondly. "She was always asking me about my sex life."

"She just liked seeing you blush," Lex hypothesized. "The closest she ever got to that with me was at that first rally in Smallville, before I got elected."

"She wouldn't have dared go any further." He got an incredulous look for that.

"You must be joking."

Clark laughed a little. "Oh, come on. It's been a while since you were friends just because of me. She liked you for yourself, and you - you let her get away with murder, Lex, where you were concerned. I've got other friends you're a lot less tolerant of."

"You collect strays," Lex sighed. Again he was silent for a moment. "I wish I'd made more time to get to know her better."

"I thought you were both getting there in your own good time - especially given how you deliberately used to aggravate each other when we were younger," he smiled wistfully. "But then, I thought there was plenty of time for everything."

"We always do. Seize the day, they say, yet it's not so easy to do. Not out of fear, but because it's impossible to grasp the urgency of the concept. You're young, you think there's always going to be a tomorrow. Then, suddenly, there isn't. No more chance to say what you wanted to say, no chance to ask the questions you wanted to ask."

"What did you want to ask him, Lex?" Clark prompted gently, easily following Lex's train of thought.

Lex rolled to his back, staring up at the opalescent drapes of the white bower. "I don't know. It's not like I had an agenda prepared for every time we met. It's just - I don't remember too much about getting out of Level Three, but I know he saved my life. Only now, I'll never find out why. Was he pissed at being manipulated? Did he resent the notion of someone else having a go at his own flesh and blood? Or… did he actually care…?" Lex's voice had grown rough, and Clark turned to his side to embrace him tenderly.

"He cared."

"I know you're always believed that…."

"I'm sure of it."

Lex was silent for a moment, and Clark waited patiently for his thoughts to clarify.

"He did something," Lex said eventually, the words coming slowly, as if torn from him, "in the spring that really - threw me. He - oh, the kid, you wouldn't know - it's a boy, due any day now. He asked me - he asked me, if anything happened to him, to manage LuthorCorp - in trust, for the child…."

"Did he know?" Clark asked, shocked.

Lex shook his head. "I'm pretty sure he didn't. Just one of those - you know, goose walking over your grave moments."

"What did you say?"

"That I'd think about it. A couple of weeks later, I agreed."

"Oh, Lex…. You've got to know now that he cared. He just didn't know how to show it, except in all those little power games you played against each other. That was your way, too, Lex, at least with him," he pointed out gently.

"I just responded in kind."

"If he hadn't cared, he'd have stopped communicating with you, but he didn't. Couldn't. You could have, you have that kind of strength, but you listened to me when I didn't want you to."

"I always listen to you."

"I know you do, but the final decision's always yours, Lex. Always has been. You take what you know, including my input, and you make up your own mind. If you'd really wanted to break off completely with your dad, you would have. Instead, you let me talk you into staying in touch. You enjoyed the sparring, as long as he didn't start in on me, and he knew that. These last couple of years, he'd only ever get on my case when he was really upset with you, not when he was calling just to hear the sound of your voice. He was almost always the one calling, remember that."

"I wish he'd said something."

"Would you have believed him?"

Lex's lips twisted in a bitter smile. "No, probably not."

"If it's any consolation, I doubt I would have, either. Not if he'd said the words, I mean."

By now they were facing each other, both on their sides, and Lex's gray-blue eyes studied Clark's face with more than a hint of anxiety.

"Do you believe me?"

Clark smiled slowly, his hands very gentle on Lex's skin. "Of course I do. You say the words so rarely, I believe them every time, but that's not really the point. You've got your own ways of telling me you love me. They're mostly non-verbal, and I love being the only one who can decipher them. You can look at me across a room - you can look at me through a TV camera lens, Lex - in just such a way, and I hear the words, just for me, only for me. That makes me feel very, very special."

"You are," was all Lex said to that, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and there was nothing Clark could say that wouldn't sound fatuous, complacent, or just plain stupid.

Lex wrapped his arms around his lover, tucking himself in against Clark as if seeking shelter. Clark shifted to accommodate him, so that the bare head rested against his shoulder.

"What is this place again?" Lex asked.

"I told you, the Fortress…."

"No, I mean this," he patted the mattress, and then made a vague gesture at their surroundings. "Or do you have some bizarre Arab sheik fantasy I don't know about yet?"

Clark laughed softly. It was true that at least from the inside, the white tent maybe did resemble some kind of oriental fantasy, with the large white bed and its curling, wrought iron framework.

"No, I don't think so. This - this was for you. The AI was building this while it was, uh, educating me, and I can tell it just picked some ideas out of my head. I always meant to bring you here, but we're in the middle of the Arctic, and about a mile inside a mountain range, and you couldn't survive, not without either protective gear or a protected environment. When I came to, I found this here. It's bigger than just this room, more like a small apartment, and you're safe inside it. We'll see about gear so you can move about in the rest of the Fortress," he promised.

"Okay."

Clark made a slightly frustrated sound. "I'm still not thinking clearly. I'll just tell it to acclimatize the whole place for you. It can do that."

"Okay."

Lex was still a little out of it, Clark could tell by the uncharacteristic tranquility of his responses, but there wasn't much he could do except be there for Lex when he was needed.

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you do something for me?"

"What?"

"Talk to me about Chloe?"

Clark was surprised. "Why? Not that I'm not happy to," he added hastily, "but I don't understand. You knew her, too."

"Not nearly as well. You were friends long before I ever came along. That's why - because you'd be happy to. You've got good memories of her, of your friendship. That's the way people should be remembered. I know others, as well as you, will remember her like that. I - I'd like to share that, a little, at least. It's not going to happen for my father; there are precious few happy memories there."

Clark rubbed his cheek gently against Lex's smooth scalp. "You can't let yourself forget your dad. In a few years, you're going to have a little brother asking you what his father was like, because you're the only person who can really tell him."

There was a faint, distressed sound from Lex. "God, how can I tell a child some of the things Dad was, and did?"

"You need to tell him the truth, but it doesn't need to be all bad. We'll find those memories, Lex. I'll talk to you about Chloe, and you'll talk to me about your dad, and you'll see, things will look different when you tell me about them. You'll find so much more there than you realize right now."

He could feel Lex's little smile against his skin. "You sound so sure of that. You do like to shine light into my dark places, don't you?"

"They're not dark places, they're just a little buried, and they're worth bringing into the light, because the things you keep hidden and protected are often very beautiful, Lex. I like discovering your hidden treasures."

"My oak," Lex said fondly.

It was so unexpected, Clark chuckled. "What?"

"Remember quoting Kahlil Gibran to me? About two hands reaching where one could not?"

"Of course I do." He linked their left hands - Lex didn't know when the ring had reappeared on Clark's hand, because he had not been wearing it while in costume, but it was there now, touching his own. "A little over three years ago. We were getting married."

"I was reminded of something else from the same author - something that's been used in wedding vows, too," he smiled a little, "speaking of love. 'And stand together yet not too near together, for the pillars of the temple stand apart, and the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadows.' That's us, finally."

"I'm the oak?"

"What else?"

"That would make you the cypress?"

"Mmh. You know the Greeks say you should never fall asleep under a cypress; you'll get your brains sucked out." There was humor in his voice again.

"Ah. Well, that part fits okay, you've sucked my brains out on numerous occasions." Clark smiled and kissed the bald head lightly. "Although, I'm not sure an evergreen's the best symbol for you."

"Brat!"

 

**End Chapter Thirty**


	31. The Oak and the Cypress (31/31)

**Series Title** :The Oak and the Cypress  
 **Chapter** : Epilogue  
 **Chapter Length** : 2887  
 **Author** : Mirtai ([](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mirtai_amazon**](http://mirtai-amazon.livejournal.com/) )  
 **Illustrations** : [](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurab1**](http://laurab1.livejournal.com/)  
 **Betas** : [](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/profile)[**pepperjackcandy**](http://pepperjackcandy.livejournal.com/) , C. Roxane, sunskjkid, [](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/profile)[**moriavis**](http://moriavis.livejournal.com/), angelinred

**Fandom** : Smallville  
 **Series Rating** : NC-17  
 **Genre** : Romance, m/m slash  
 **Pairing** : CLex

**Warnings** : Secondary character deaths.

**Disclaimer** : Many of the characters used in this work of fan-fiction are the creation and property of Time/Warner and its relevant subsidiaries, as are some of the premises from which the story is derived. No infringement of copyright is intended, and no income of any nature is being derived from its publication.

**Summary** : How does a fifteen-year old Kansas farmboy turn into Superman? And how does he do so in the company of somebody as brilliant and unpredictable as Lex Luthor? Ten years in the life of Clark Kent and company.

*****

**EPILOGUE**

She waited on the rooftop of the Daily Planet, shivering a little, more excited and scared than she had been since breaking her first front-page story. The evening was fresh, but calm, until a little breeze ruffled her dark hair.

"Ms. Lane."

She turned swiftly, almost stumbling. He hovered a couple of feet off the roof. He landed as she watched, gracefully, the cape fluttering down into elegant folds as he stilled. He truly was a magnificent figure - she could feel her mouth going dry - broad-shouldered and slim-hipped, perfectly proportioned, the tight fabric of his costume clinging to every chiseled muscle. So handsome, too; strong, clear features, high cheekbones, square jaw, full lips - and those eyes, blue as a mountain lake in summer, and the short, jet-black hair, swept back save for that kiss-curl, almost incongruous, adorably unruly in the otherwise pristine perfection of his form.

"Ms. Lane?"

Then there was the voice - not all that deep, yet so warm, almost caressing….

His repetition of her name, with a question mark tacked on at the end, brought her back to her senses.

"Um - yes, hi. I mean - thank you for agreeing to meet me." Silently, she cursed her inhabitual inarticulacy. "Uh - you understand that the public really needs to know what's happening here? I mean, we've been getting reports and sightings of you for a couple of months now, and you do just amazing things, but then, last week, especially - well, you saved the whole mid-west from a nuclear catastrophe…"

"I understand," he said in his calm, grave voice. "It was never my intention to remain hidden. Events last week may have forced my hand a little, but I'm willing to tell you what I can."

"Well…" She smiled suddenly, and produced her recorder. "That's great. You don't mind if I tape?"

"No. But I do have one request to make."

"On or off the record?" she offered impulsively.

"As you see fit."

She hesitated, and started the recorder. "I can always erase it later," she explained. "If you don't mind. If - if you feel strongly about it, I will," she promised, feeling the trust this strange being had inspired in her from the start.

"Very well. As I said, I never intended to remain a shadow figure. Having chosen Metropolis as my home, I sought a trustworthy journalist to present me to the public in, I hoped, a favorable light. In view of her record with the Planet, and a particular affinity she seemed to have with… unexplained phenomena," he smiled a little, "I had - and I intend no offense to you - decided to approach Chloe Sullivan to represent me to her - your - people. Ms. Sullivan died, courageously, in the attack on the LCI plant in Smallville before I was able to do so. I will always regret not having been able to prevent that." He was silent for a moment, and the brilliant blue eyes seemed veiled, then he went on. "She was, I believe, your friend. She was a fine journalist, and a brave woman. I would like you to dedicate this interview to her memory."

Lois had to clear her throat several times before she could speak. "I - I'd like to do that, very much. Can I quote you on that?"

"Every word," he assured her, without hesitation.

"Thank you." She cleared her throat again. "So, Superman…"

He winced fractionally, though with a hint of a smile. "That's a little hard to live up to…"

She was recovering her poise. "If the glove fits - and it sure does for now," she said sassily. "So, Superman - who are you?"

"My name is Kal-El. I am the last survivor of a planet named Krypton…."

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/mirtai_amazon/pic/0000g645/)

**FINE**


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